Secrets and Roguery
by S.Hagen
Summary: Having defeated the Mask of Winters the reputation of Heron, Sparrow and Ivory grows, but they have no time to rest on their laurels, for Lightning has brought them a problem, the solution to which will take them throughout and beyond Creation. Enemies also move against them, and it is time to seek out allies. Rated Mature as always, just in case.
1. Zero Act

List of Characters from previous stories

Untruths of Time

Sparrow Hawk and Lightning

To Stand once more in the Sun

Solar Exalted

**Sparrow Hawk** - Dawn Caste - Airship Captain who exalted when fighting a demon.

**Heron Jade Eyes** - Eclipse Caste - Gambler, beautiful man

**Ivory Peleps** - Twilight Caste - Child of the Empire, sorceress and engineer

Lunar Exalted

**Lightning** - Fullmoon Caste - Servant of the Silver Pact

Sidreal Exalted

**Dreaming Blue** - Chosen of Secrets - Seeks the Orrery of the Unseen Stars that Ivory possesses

**Gracious Shaia** - Chosen of Serenity - Acquaintance of Dreaming Blue

Terrestrial Exalted

**Anzar Ragara** - Water Aspect - A Dragon Blood who tried to kill Ivory and Heron

**Kihoshi Cathak** - Fire Aspect - A Dragon Blood who joined the hunt for Ivory and Heron, now Heron's servant

**Peleps Jade Dolphin** - Water Aspect - Ivory's mother

**Mnemon Gazan** - Earth Aspect - Leader of the Empress's Left

**Menmon Tolsay** - Earth Apsect - Member of the Empress's Left

**M**aheka Yoti - Earth Aspect - Member of Lookshy's Sorcerer Engineers, Ivory stole his armiger

Abyssal Exalted

**Faded Maiden of the Tomb** - Midnight Caste - Servant of Walker in Darkness, hates Nihilistic Courtesan

**Truth Found in Pain of Fire** - Daybreak Caste - Servant of Walker in Darkness

**Nihilistic Courtesan** - Day Caste - Rogue Abyssal, Lightning's mate

**Cold Rain** - Midnight Caste - Rogue Abyssal

**Whispers of the Dead** - Moonshadow Caste - Rogue Abyssal

Ghosts

**Abbess Cloud Hands** - once an Air Aspect - Killed by Heorn

**Mnemon Grace** - once an Earth Aspect - Killed by Heron

Gods

**Kage Hu** - God of things in Shadows, servant to Five Days in Darkness, protect Ivory

**Darken Gray** - God of Corporal Punishment, servant of Aisha Hikari Ex

**Aisha Hikari Ex** - God of Children

* * *

><p><strong>Secrets and Roguery<strong>

Through Out Creation - Zero Chapter

The conversation was a low susurration, like the gentle flow of water; always there and equally meaningless. To Anzar the water like association offered some peace, but not as much as the opium he smoked from a long, jade pipe; or the rough and burning alcohol he drank.

The proprietor of the 'bar' shuffled softly up to where Anzar sat straight backed and placed a small, resinous ball of opium in a silver dish that was on the small table top. Behind him a young woman, pretty enough, but for her bruised eyes, carried another bottle of the clear liquor, 'white lightning' that Anzar had been drinking near constantly.

He nodded and the woman placed the bottle on the table. The proprietor walked away, but the woman remained, standing by the table, in her thin outer robe, tugging slightly at the material to expose more of her full breasts. Anzar shook his head and held out a handful of silver bits to her. She nodded and took them, then left as well.

He turned his pipe in his hands for a time, feeling the smooth silver and jade fittings, each part precisely created and assembled. It was a small work of art. The pipe's metal bowl had gone black with use. He scraped some of the burnt resin and smoke stains away with a thumbnail.

Around him people came and went, passing through the small door, finding a seat, or more often sprawling on cushions. Some were taken further into the building, where they would not disturb the other patrons as they sought their own escapes into less peaceful madness.

Escape, Anzar thought, as, with a silver knife, he cut a chunk of opium from the ball. They all were escaping something. Carefully he filled the pipe bowl and then with a pair of scorched, iron tweezers found a burning coal in the ceramic bowl resting on the centre of the table. With the coal he set the opium to burning.

Time meant little in the dimly illuminated room. It was cut off from the world outside, as much as could be arranged. No one bothered him, asked for anything, just came and placed liquor and drugs in front of him, made subtle offers of other things. As long as he had money they would continue to do so. He smiled as he put the pipe aside for a moment, knowing that they would continue to do so even if he had no money. He was a Dragon Blood after all, and he was in the capital city of Dragon Blood Empire. This was a place where proper respect would be shown.

He worked the cork from the bottle the girl had left and filled his tall glass to the rim.

Whether he was deserving of that respect or not.

Musing as he was Anzar missed the subtle change in the atmosphere of the establishment, and it was not until he head a soft gasp, so unsubtle in the den, that he pulled himself away from murky thoughts and looked up.

A tall man walked through the bar, his robes not really covering his jade breastplate, his hood pushed back showing a head shorn of hair and a hard, cruel face. Anzar had seen him before, but even if he had not he would have recognized the Master of the Pinnacle and the Wyld Hunt; Peleps Deled.

The girl, bravely, probably foolishly, approached, as if to ask the man if he wanted anything, but the words died still on her lips and her knees looked as if they might buckle as Deled fixed her with a stare but for a moment. He continued into the room, unconcerned with the people who shifted out of his way, or left the den entirely. Finally he stopped and took a seat across from Anzar.

"Ragara Anzar," Deled said, his voice raised with no regard to the quiet that all maintained.

Anzar nodded, and reached for his pipe, but the Master of the hunt was faster, his hand coming down to snap the pipe. "We must speak," Deled said.

Swallowing to moisten a suddenly dry throat Anzar nodded.

Deled looked about and then asked, "Hiding in such a place does not befit one of the Blood of the Dragons. Does fear, humiliation, or perhaps," a sneer coloured his tone, "a broken heart send a Dragon into hiding?"

Anzar shifted, leaning forward, for a moment a flare of anger burning away good sense. "Don't judge me."

Deled's hand was wrapped in the cloth of Anzar's shirt, faster than he could see, and he was pulled close to the hard face of Deled. People stood, quickly vacating the den. "Answer my question."

Anzar said nothing, and Deled released him. "I've read the reports," he said. "Your hunt was quite the failure. Of course I put much of the blame on Cloud Hands. She should have know better."

Anzar felt that Cloud Hands deserved better, but his earlier anger was damped. "You were not there," he said calmly.

Deled smiled cruelly. "I've dealt with worse. She failed. You failed as well."

Anzar was silent, firming his jaw.

"Tell me about Dreaming Blue."

"What do you want to know about her?" he asked after a moment.

"Who is she?"

Anzar shook his head. "I don't know."

Deled frowned. "I dislike her. She seems to be a cipher."

"She always served the cause of the Order," Anzar told him.

"Did she?" The cruel smile played at the corner of his mouth.

"She did."

"Perhaps that is true, but only, I believe, because it served her cause. There are others like her," he bit off the words, "making a mockery of the Faith. Do not let your feelings blind you to that fact Ragara Anzar."

"I trust her," Anzar said, though he felt his words ring hollow.

"You are a fool then, but I do not need you to hunt this woman. I want the demon in the form of the Peleps girl."

"It all started with her," he said quietly in agreement.

"I will not have anyone speaking of that thing as if she were some kind of saviour." There was venom in his words, and his fingernails carved shallow furrows in the wood of the table as he closed his fist.

Anzar looked at the man and realized that Deled's world was in danger of being knocked askance, as Anzar's world had been by the betrayal of Dreaming Blue. The Shadowland being closed by a Solar, by an Anathema, one who accomplished what the Dragon Bloods could not; such a thing could not stand in Deled's world.

Anzar was careful to say nothing of the sort.

"I do not know where the girl has gone."

"Then we will find her together."

It was on his lips to ask why, but good sense stilled that question. "You will lead a Wyld Hunt against her."

Deled nodded. "And the other Anathema with her, and those who follow, willingly or not."

Anzar picked up the glass of liquor in front of him, before Deled could stop him, but he did not drink from it. Instead he carefully poured it back into the bottle, then put the cork into the neck. "I will use this to drink a toast over their dead bodies," he said to Deled, lifting the bottle by the neck.

Anzar did not really believe the words, but he spoke well enough that likely Deled thought he did, for the master of the Wyld Hunt smiled.

Anzar answered the smile with one of his own as he got to his feet. In truth he was terrified, certain he was going to his death.

* * *

><p>With great care Mnemon Gazan wrote several characters onto the map, in red ink. The characters spelled out 'Blossom'. Blossom, was, as far as Tolsay and his agents had been able to figure out, Heron Jade Eyes, disguised as a woman.<p>

He leaned back from his map, looking at it. In black ink Heron's name was written. In blue ink the name 'Verity Jinx', in red 'Blossom' and in green 'Chalim Ofons'.

The names covered a large part of the lands in the South, the Scavenger Lands, and up into the North.

"One man could not have done all this," he said.

Across from him knelt a woman, pretty, a little plump, dressed in a formal, mannish suit. She leaned forward, her short, brown hair falling forward, brown eyes scanning the map. "Chalim Ofons?"

"Young man, bookish, nervous, by all reports, twitches when he plays. Most people think he is lucky."

"Really? I mean, I accept that Heron can disguise himself as Blossom or Verity, he is, by all reports, as beautiful as any woman, but some bookish guy? How can the guild not see through that disguise?"

Gazan tapped his finger on one incidence of the name in green; which appeared twice in Nexus, once in Great Forks, and once in Gem. "I have thought of that myself Lin, but Chalim seems a likely choice, so I leave him on the list. There are three more possibilities, but I am not certain enough to add them."

Lin Iselsi was a member of the Left, serving as a Liaison to The Thousand Scales and the All-Seeing Eye. He would not trust her but for the fact she was completely loyal to the Empress.

Lin looked at the map. "He's gambling quite a bit."

"And not like he usually did. Gentleman Gambler was how most people described him, win or lose, always polite, but not now. Now he is taking gambling houses for all he can. He's broken the bank at three Guild casinos."

"The Guild will not be happy. That explains the disguises?"

"They can't ban him if they can't identify him. And he is damnably fast. He outruns news of his actions, and then changes to a new identity and starts the process again."

"How long as he been doing it?"

"Three months."

"That is a great deal of money."

Gazan smiled and nodded. "A great deal, and I don't know what he is doing with it." He looked at her. "Yet."

"I will see if I can follow the money trail."

"Good."

"You know he wants money now, for some grand project no doubt. We could give him quite a bit..."

He shook his head. "He'd never fall for such simple bait, but as you say, he needs money. I have Tolsay looking into it. He is going to find someone unpleasant, possibly with the Guild, to set up a con around, then offer to bring Heron in. It is transparent..."

"Very much so."

Ignoring her Gazan continued. "But he will probably go for it, and it will be a start. And none of our own money spent."

Lin reached forward, spreading out several pages on which were sketches. "One could see Blossom and Heron as sisters."

"Sister and brother."

"No one could ever see two like that standing side by side and assume Heron was male. Unless he was naked." She paused. "I would dearly love to see him naked you know."

"I'm sure you and many others."

"Yes. Now Verity on the other hand looks like a scared little mouse, a librarian, or someones' forgotten daughter. If she came to a casino I owned I would turn her away immediately just because, well, why would a little mouse come to a casino?"

"Casinos exist to part fools from their money and don't do well turning people away."

"Perhaps that is why I am not running a casino. Still don't think Chalim is Heron."

"Time will tell. Find out what he needs the money for, and while you are at it I need to know who in the Upper Echelons of Thousand Scales is still completely loyal to the Empress."

"I will do so." She got to her feet, then knelt down and put her hand on the picture of Verity. "May I have this?"

"Why?"

"I have a servant I want to dress up like this." She smiled.

He waved his hand and said, "Take it."

"Thanks." She took the picture and nearly flounced from the room.

Returning his attention to the map he wished he had Heron Jade Eyes working for him. He could accomplish great things with an agent like that. Though, he thought, picking up the picture of the beautiful man, it seemed more likely that he would end up working for Heron.

And the dangerous thought was that he might not mind such a thing.

He put the picture aside and got to his feet, walking to his window, looking out over the gardens. "Where are you right now my Empress, and what is it you plan for your Empire?"

* * *

><p>The staff of the Seven Fold Lotus were busy. They were always busy of course, maintaining a manse of Seven Fold Lotus' size was a large job. Opal Peleps had grown up the manse, it and the grounds around it had been the entirety of her world until she had exalted. She knew the ebb and flow of the manse, and knew that the servants were preparing for something.<p>

Nothing too large, she thought, no one too important. She acknowledged the shows of respect from the servants as she passed, but did not let it slow her. Possibly a magistrate was coming to visit, or some minor functionary of the court. She might have asked, but she had heard important things and she must talk to her mother about them.

She was tall, for a woman, an athletic build, mostly concealed by her clothing. She was pretty, long black hair, and tanned skin, and dark blue eyes that seemed to glow at times.

Turning a corner took her out of view of servants and other, lesser household members. With the privacy she started to run, her kimono sleeves flapping as she moved. Quite unseemly, which is why she had waited until she was unobserved. Down the hall, out into an open plaza, not often used for there were no easy exits from it. A cul-de-sac existing for the purpose of essence flow in the Manse, not a structure built for the convenience of its inhabitants.

She quickened her pace, leaping up, her foot touching down on the rim of the central fountain for a moment before she sprang up and forward. The silk of her kimono snapped like a sail as she covered nearly thirty feet in distance to land on a balcony railing twenty feet up from the ground.

Pace unbroken she leapt from balcony railing into room beyond and then into a hall.

Opal had to slow her pace slightly, once more entering the well travelled paths of the manse, but her earlier burst of speed and the shortcut had bought her some time. Probably not enough though.

Up ahead the corridor turned, and would turn again before it would bring her to the staircase she sought, and then she would have to backtrack. She looked about, saw she was alone, for a moment, and ducked into one of the side doors. This brought her into the third level of a vast library, lit by the sun streaming through large windows of adamant panes.

Below her scholars, students and others perused the library and its contents, but few were up in the higher levels, and no one saw her cross the wooden walkway, open one of the window panes, and then leap out.

She dropped quietly into an empty, walled garden, between a pair of ground level windows, unmarked stone at her back. Two young children were sitting in the shade of an apple tree. They stared at her, surprised. Opal regarded them for a moment as she put her clothing to rights. She did not recognize them, likely children of the servants, hiding from work or taking a break.

Placing a finger to her lips, holding them with her gaze for several seconds likely got her point across loud and clear. She turned and walked towards a gate. Pushing it open and stepping out nearly put her at her mother's elbow, but her timing was a little off, and she ended up beside the Majordomo, a pretty young woman who managed a quick smile before shifting to the side so that Opal might approach the woman in the lead.

She stepped forward, waited a moment for the stable master to get his instructions, then addressed her mother. "Might you spare me a moment mother?"

Jade Dolphin turned towards her daughter and smiled. "Of course Opalescence, but for the moment I must deal with other issues."

"Yes mother," Opal said, and then took a step back so others might speak with Jade Dolphin.

They walked along the bricked tiled path, towards the river, her mother assigning tasks to her senior staff, clarifying things when necessary. All the things required to run the manse and the other lands that her mother commanded. Opal was worried that she might not get a chance to actually speak to her mother when the dock came in sight.

Jade Dolphin paused in her discussion with the master of the kitchens and looked back at Opal. "Get the gondola ready, you will be rowing."

It was on Opal's lips to say, 'Me?', but she had been too well schooled, and instead dipped her head in a bow and said, "Of course mother."

She stepped forward, lengthening her stride as much as her clothing and decorum would allow, reaching the white gondola, tied off with a number of other small craft, several steps ahead of the rest of the crowd. She cast off the bow mooring, and then took a long oar from a rack. Stepping one foot into the boat she was able to offer her mother her hand to assist her into the craft.

Her mother settled, Opal undid the stern mooring and then used her foot to push the gondola from the dock. Settling onto the end she spun the oar, dropped the end into the water, and with a sweep turned the bow towards the middle of the river. A few strokes took them from the calm pool near the docks, into the river's current. It gently took the boat and pulled it into its embrace.

"Satisfactory," her mother said.

Rare praise, Opal thought, moving the gondola out towards the middle of the river. "I remember when you took me out on the river, just after I exalted," Opal said.

"I am glad to hear that. You were supposed to remember it."

Jade Dolphin's tone carried a subtle edge to it, letting Opal know she had made an error in drifting into nostalgia, stating something so obvious.

She did not try to defend herself, or make excuses, instead focused on her rowing, lifting the oar from the water, spinning it in an arc above, and then plunging it smoothly into the river on the other side of the gondola. When her mother had preformed the same maneuver, many years ago, she had brought a spray of water with the oar, that had formed a rainbow above them, beautiful and amazing as not a drop of water had fallen on the boat.

Something expected of a water aspect, but not something that Opal was willing to try yet.

"The river," Jade Dolphin said, dipping a hand into the cool water, "protects us, as much as anything. You may speak freely while we are upon it."

She did not look back at Opal.

Opal was silent for a moment, and then, "They say that Peleps Deled requested house aid in a Wyld Hunt he is leading. They say that you refused it to him."

"Deled is a fool who is going to his death. Of course I refused him."

Opal swallowed, in spite of her mother's words that they were safe upon the river.

"He is a powerful man, and he hunts," she paused, "an Anathema who likely killed Ivory."

Her mother laughed, and shifted back on her elbows, extending her neck so she was looking back at Opal from an upside down perspective. "He is hunting Ivory, no demon that took her shape."

Lazily she lifted her head so she was once again staring in the direction that river took them.

Opal considered her mother's words for a few seconds. "So you hope that Ivory can be of use to you."

"Very good," Jade Dolphin told her, not looking back.

"What is she?"

"She is your little sister, the same girl that occasionally spoke true prophecy and I sent to Gazan Menmon. She is just more powerful now."

"I don't understand," Opal said.

"There is nothing wrong with that. You lack information. When I took you on this river I told you many things."

"And you said there was more that you might one day tell me."

"And this is one day," Jade Dolphin told her. "It has been our family's privilege and duty to maintain the essence flows in the Prefecture of Juche. The essence flows in this part of the island are of vital importance to the health of the Blessed Isle, and of the workings of the Sword of Creation.

"There are many materials that our line has needed to perform our duty, materials that have been sanitized so that we might not know the truth. The thing is, however, had they been sanitized too much, they would have been useless. Truth has remained, the result is that members of our line have always known too much."

"Too much about what?"

"About history, about history as it happened." Her mother shifted in the gondola, looking towards the banks. "Of course knowledge of true history has always been of little use, for there was nothing that could be done with it. Until they returned in great numbers. And as your sister has become one of them, that knowledge is even more valuable."

"Become one of what?" Opal asked, still rowing, keeping the gondola moving fast and steady.

"A chosen of the Unconquered Sun, a Solar Exalted, and, possibly, a true ruler of Creation. And there is no longer just one or two of them, appearing once every decade or so, as was the pattern in the past, but hundreds. Deled's time is over."

"How do you know that Ivory will do what you want though?"

Jade Dolphin laughed. "Opalescence, why do you think your sister would be able to refuse me? It is not as if you can."

Opal nodded after a moment. "What would you have me do?"

"Watch and wait Opal my dear, and be flexible in your thinking. This is a time of change and those who cling too tightly to the past will be lost."

* * *

><p>In The Lands of the Dead - Plotting of Ghosts<p>

In the Underworld no city was as grand as Stygia, the city that sat at the centre of the land of the Dead, as Mount Meru and its ruined city of Meru was the heart of Creation. Built around the Well of Oblivion it was, in its way, part of the wards that protected the rest of the Underworld from complete destruction and Oblivion.

The city was one of ghosts, mostly, but as it had been built in part by mortals, mortals still found safety, of a sort, within.

In the city district called Soul's Lost, the Death Knight Cold Rain and a single zombie had found such temporary shelter.

On the upper floor of an elegant, monochrome mansion Cold Rain looked, from a bay window, down on the fine brick roadways and highborn ghosts that walked them. The room that he was in was very nearly empty, but for a few pieces of old furniture, and a large object, covered in silk, pushed up against one of the walls. Cracks lined the walls and ceilings, and mould grew here and there.

He was not bothered by the shabbiness of the room, for it was quite common in Soul's Lost. The elegance and beauty were just facades of the old and crumbling heart of the district. If anything he was amused at the ghosts, desperately trying to hold onto their living lives of opulence with so little to do so with.

He heard a soft rapping at his door, three rapid knocks, a long pause, and then a final one. The thought of ignoring it played on his mind for a few moments, but he finally looked to the door and said, "Enter."

The door opened and a tall, thin woman, with long red hair and dark skin, entered. She was as mortal as he, and like him was a Death Knight, once in service to the Mask of Winters.

"So why do you come here this time Whispers?" he asked her, turning back to the window and the performance below.

Whispers of the Dead closed the door behind her. "I thought you might like news," she said softly.

Cold Rain had found her when he had entered the Mask's holdings to obtain his Monstance of Celestial Portion. He had helped her obtain hers as well, as she had helped him. He had no idea where she had hidden hers, but his was in the room with him, covered in silk so he did not have to look at it.

As the reliquary of his Black Exaltation, and where the power would flee were his mortal life ended, it was as much a part of him as his arm. It was not something he had wanted anyone else to lay their hands on once the Mask of WInters had been ended.

"News of what?" he asked.

"The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile still holds Thorns of the Underworld, what is left of it."

"Has any other Death Lord made a serious play for it?"

"No," he heard her say after a moment, "though the walker in Darkness has sent some scouting missions. She tells her followers that the Mask of Winters will return."

"I wonder if she really believes that?" Cold Rain asked softly. He did not, was certain the Mask was gone.

She must have known his question was rhetorical for she did not answer, but said, "I have heard that the Lady of Darkness in Bloodstained Robes has sworn service to the Lover."

Cold Rain laughed at that. "Her and her Death Lord's appetites might match, but I would be surprised if she lived out the year. More likely the Lover will end her and find someone more interesting to exalt in her place. And what of the Disciple of the Seven Forbidden Wisdoms?" he asked, suddenly finding a liking for this game.

"I do not know, but, the Physician of the Black Maladies travels to speak with the First and Forsaken lion, though if he does so with the Maiden's knowledge I do not know."

"And Typhon?"

"There have been many deaths in the River provinces. I believe he is working out certain issues."

Cold Rain left the window, walked into the room, picked up a bottle from a worn table and then filled two glasses. Pausing for a moment to gently stroke the rotting face of the zombie who stood close, he then picked up the glasses and carried them over to Whispers, holding one out. "What say we drink a toast to Typhon then, who seems to be having fun in all this?"

She took the glass he held, almost hesitantly, and lifted it. He brought his up, tapped it against hers, filling the room with a soft chime. Then he drank. Watching Whispers drink, her throat working as she swallowed the contents, he waited, and then asked, "And what of Whispers in the Darkness, who does she serve?"

The question surprised her, but he had timed it so she did not choke on her drink. "I do not serve anyone, like you I am on the run."

"Liar," he said to her, with no real heat, and finished off the contents of his glass. "Now, show me the respect I deserve and tell me."

Holding the glass in two hands, nervously fidgeting with it, she said, "I have been approached by agents of the Lion. They've asked me to extend an invitation to you?"

"And have you told them where I am?"

She shook her head.

"And were you followed here?"

She shook her head again.

"So killing you might be of a benefit to me."

She looked uncertain for a moment, and then said, "I will not go quietly."

He laughed softly. "I will think on it. Thank you for the message."

She nodded, put her glass down, and left.

Cold Rain returned to the window, wondering if he really wanted to remain in the service of any Death Lord. He looked at the silk shrouded Monstrance. He might, remain a rogue, do as he wished, take what little freedom he could.

It did not seem such a bad thing. But he would have to give up fantasies of revenge, for without a Death Lords backing and the resources it brought he would be foolish to pursue the powerful entities he had battled against.

"What do you think Mother," he asked softly, "shall I be a slave again?"

No answer was given, for which he was grateful.

* * *

><p>The Noss Fens was full of stagnant, scum covered pools and streams; thick black moss hung from the trees. The life energies of the elemental Pole of Wood mixed with the energies of death in the Shadowland, so that things grew and rotted at the same time.<p>

In the centre of the Shadowland was the Mound of Forsaken Seeds; a vast labyrinthine ziggurat, sunken into the fen so only a hundred feet of the top was visible above ground. Within, the tunnels and chambers of the Mound were odd and disquieting, lacking right angles or parallels line.

It was the power base of the Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils, and there she dwelt with her menagerie of foster children.

Cloud Hands, now a ghost, had been brought to the Mound, with Grace, by Shoat of Mire. She had not met the Dowager, for which was she was glad. She had seen the living children, with their fear filled eyes, and she had seen the ghosts. Many ghosts. The majority of them destined to become soulsteel.

She and Grace had been given fine raiment, and comfortable quarters, and they were made to look out at the forge that took ghosts and turned them into soulsteel. It was terrible, but Cloud Hands did not think to run. To run would be to give up her hatred of Heron Jade Eyes. To run would be to accept the call of Lethe and to be reborn, new and unknowing. That she could not accept, that her vengeance against Heron might never bear fruit.

If she was strong enough, then she would play her part in Heron's destruction.

If she could endure.

It was what she had been promised.

Grace and she did not speak often, they had little to say that had not been already said. They only waited, refusing to be cowed by the terrible sights they were forced to watch.

"Almost done," Shoat of Mire said.

Surprised, Cloud Hands turned to look at the child.

"What do you want?" Grace asked, trying to hide alarm with anger, Cloud Hands supposed.

The child knelt near the small table where Cloud Hands and Grace spent most of their days. She was dressed in a silk shift, the once delicate embroidery gone to tatters with age, and the material yellowed from too many washings. She canted her head to the side and put a pinky into one ear, working it back and forth in small circles. "I want to ask you about Ivory," she said, bringing her finger out to look it over.

She was not disturbed by the forge and the cries of ghosts, but Cloud Hands had been told the children of the Mound were surrounded by soulsteel, made from the ghosts of their parents, grand parents, great grand parents, and even father back. Obviously they were inured to the idea.

"What do you want to know about her?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Why?" Graced followed.

"There aren't many children Exalts," the Shoat of Mire explained. "So I want to meet her, if I can."

Cloud Hands and Grace looked at each other, then back to the child. "I saw her call foul magics against the Wyld Hunt," Cloud Hands told her. "And found many dead by her hand or the claws of her tiger."

"So she's a sorceress," Shoat said. "Neat. What else?"

"She would have been raised in luxury," Cloud Hands told her, "well educated, though possibly harshly so."

Shoat snorted. "Don't think she's got it more harsh than me."

Cloud Hands nodded in agreement.

"She will be capable of being unfailingly polite, if she choses to, and a master of etiquette, if she chose," Grace said.

"If she choses to?" Shoat turned her gaze to Grace.

"The way we are raised. She will think too highly of herself, and is not old enough that anyone will have beaten that idea out of her. Likely no one will now."

"So she could be fun to play with," Shoat said.

"I think the two of you would become fast friends," Cloud Hands said, and it was not a compliment.

Shoat of Mire only smiled, suggesting she knew the true meaning behind the words. Instead of speaking more of Ivory she asked, "Do you think your hate is going to be strong enough, or will you just get lost with all the other ghosts?"

"It will be," Grace stated. "We will overcome."

"We shall see," Cloud Hands told her.

Shoat smiled. "Good, cause it's happening t'morrow." She smiled. "I'm gonna watch."

Cloud Hands felt ill, but did not let it cross her burnt face, and only nodded. "Then tomorrow our questions are answered."

* * *

><p>The hand that closed on the soulsteel railing was claw like, the skin withered, the flesh underneath melted away. Faded Maiden of the Tomb had grown more powerful in the weeks since she had returned to the Underworld, weeks spent meditating on the Void. The power of it had entered her, strengthened her, but had left her changed. She looked more skeletal, the curves of the limbs had disappeared, and she had grown gaunt.<p>

She was not concerned with these changes, for those that served Oblivion, as they grew in power, would never appear average to mortal eyes. And the signs of death upon her body pleased the Faded Maiden.

She looked down from the tower fortress, on the Walker's forces, gathered below in neat, orderly rows. They moved in uniformity, marching past their officers, weapons raised in salute.

Would they be sent today to take the lands that had until recently been claimed by the Mask of Winters? It was a question that everyone asked for the Walker in Darkness was not open with anyone. She wondered whether when the time came if she would be marching with the troops, or left in her comfortable cell.

Since she had returned, after her debriefing with the Walker in Darkness, she had been left alone, to meditate and train, but confined. Was she prisoner or being given a chance to recover from wounds? She did not know and no one would tell her, assuming they knew.

Someone called her name, she looked back towards her room, saw one of the ghosts that served her.

"Truth wishes to speak with you Madame."

"Thank you," she said in a voice that had grown harsh, "show me to him."

Truth was waiting for her in the foyer. With him was a jade effigy, carrying a large chest across its shoulders.

"Truth, I am glad to see you," she said.

He nodded. "Lord Walker has sent for you, I have brought your new armour."

She felt her heart speed up in her breast as the effigy placed the chest on the floor. She stepped closer as Truth popped the heavy clasps. When he opened it she saw the black metal of soulsteel within and was able to truly relax for the first time in many weeks.

"I shall let you prepare. You will find Lord Walker in the mausoleum." He dipped his head in a bow, and then left.

The ghosts came and helped Faded Maiden prepare. She did not even bother to have them carry the chest to her rooms, but stayed in the foyer, shedding her clothing so she stood naked, unashamed of her withered form. Soft cloth of silk steel, dyed black, was draped across her, to provide some padding where the armour might otherwise pinch and bite. Then the plate armour was placed on her.

It was a full suit, covering every part of her, the joints cleverly designed so that she might enjoy full mobility even while she was protected. She put on the helm, which fully enclosed her head, and was formed in the shape of a skull—the jaw could split open and shift back to free her mouth so she might talk clearly she supposed, or feed.

Flexing her fingers in their soulsteel gauntlets she looked into the chest, expecting to see a weapon, but there was nothing else. Behind her helm she frowned.

"Will there be anything else Madame?" one of the ghosts asked.

"No," she said, keeping all doubt from her voice.

She strode from the room, the metal of her boots ringing loudly on the stone floor, as the armour softly moaned around her.

For the first time in weeks she exited the tower, nearly running down the stairs. She slowed her pace slightly as she walked the brick road, around the drill square where the ghosts still marched, towards the vast mausoleum where the Walker in Darkness held court.

At the foot of the long stairs that led up to the jade clad, steel double doors, two bone striders stood guard. They held pole-arms with bladed heads that were nearly larger than the Faded Maiden. The weapons were crossed, creating a barrier to the stairs. She almost had to stop lest she run into the steel, but at the last moment the bone striders lifted their weapons so she might pass.

It showed little respect, and worried her.

Refusing to dwell on it she strode up the stairs. The doors opened just before she reached them, and she stepped into the dark chamber beyond.

There were others there, but her focus was completely on the Walker in Darkness. He was tall, muscular, in a soulsteel breastplate over scarlet robes. His skin was blue, hair white and his eyes glowed with an orange light. Those eyes turned on her and the Faded Maiden felt as if she was laid bare before him.

"I have been waiting for Courtesan to return," he told her.

The Faded Maiden swallowed and then said, "Yes my lord."

"Had she returned I would have had her kill you."

The Faded Maiden felt her knees grow weak, and she gritted her teeth and forced her legs to hold her up. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"She has not returned," the Walker told her, "so instead, I charge you to the task that you willfully followed of your own accord before. You will go forth and kill Courtesan, for I have questions for her ghost." He reached down and grasped an object wrapped in black silk. He pulled the material from it, revealing a huge, soulsteel axe; a grand grimcleaver.

"An axe for an executioner," he told her, holding the weapon out towards her.

She stepped forward and took the weapon.

"Do what you need to succeed."

"I will my Lord," she said, the axe settling heavily into her hands.

"If you fail at this task your life will be forfeit, and your unlife will be suffering." He smiled.

"I understand my Lord. Courtesan will die."

* * *

><p>Rumours fly like snow in the North<p>

The largest city in the North, Whitewall occupied a large, fertile valley. Over 700,000 people lived there in the different districts of the city: Foretown, closest to the city's single gate, Midtown, and Afton. Afton, the farthest from the gate, was where the upper crust of the city lived.

Less crowded than Foretown and Midtown (and the slums of Underton) one could walk the orderly stone streets of Afton, without having to deal with the jostling masses. And, if agile enough, could run.

The runner was tall, with pale skin, and long, blue black hair that hung heavy and yet flowed like the waves of the ocean. Her black jade half plate was strangely silent, absent the creakings of leather and mail. She was Terrestrial exalted, a beautiful young looking woman who moved smoothly between the other pedestrians, so fast that she was clear of them before they could admonish her.

Turning into a narrow street she sprung up, leaping between one wall and the other, climbing three stories in only a few strides. The balcony on the third floor ran completely around the building, but she only circled halfway around before jumping across to the roof of another building.

Her boots skidded on the stone roof as she came to a stop near the roof's occupant. He was a bugged eyed, older man, with skin that was nearly the colour of snow, and eyes like ice.

He looked up from the brazier he had been warming his long fingered hands at. "Some people would use the stairs Blue," he said.

"Oh poo on the stairs, there is a line up at the stairs of people who want to get up here. You know I hate line ups." She pouted cutely.

"But they are orderly," he said, and looked back to the brazier.

"Orderly is for other people." She dropped down onto her knees, spreading her fur cloak around her. "What news do you have from Thorns?" she asked him, dark green eyes sparkling.

"News from Thorns is very valuable," he said softly. "Everyone wants to know about Thorns. Perhaps I should hold onto it." He looked up at her from under his brows, smiling.

"You couldn't hold onto anything," Blue said, and dropped a bit of jade into the brazier.

He reached in heedless of the heat and pulled the jade from amongst the coals. "I have heard some interesting things from Lookshy and the Marukan Alliance," he told her, looking at the jade. "This might be good enough for half of those things."

"Couldn't you just ask for more money like a normal person?" She took another piece of jade and dropped it into his palm.

He closed his fingers around the jade. "The Tyrant of Thorns is gone."

"I know this," she told him in a raised tone.

"No, you knew that people were saying he was gone. I am telling you that he is gone. That is news that comes from Lookshy. And the entire shadowland is gone as well, replaced by lands tainted by the Wyld."

"So you would be at home there."

"If you did not have money and power you could get by on your looks, but not your charm," he told her.

"Thanks. What else can you tell me Frog?"

He rolled the jade in his hand. "The ones that ended the Mask, the riders name some."

"Tell me," Blue ordered.

Frog seemed a little taken aback and shifted backwards, nearly falling from his stool. Blue reached out, grabbing his wrist and pushing another piece of jade into his hand.

"There was a woman called Sparrow Hawk," he said quickly. "According the to the riders she would not stand out, but they say she is a great general, a destroyer of the dead. And a beautiful man named Heron, though he did not directly fight the Mask. And a little girl named Ivory."

"A little girl? It sounds as if you are making things up to sell your story," a voice very like Blue's said.

Both Frog and Blue looked towards the Speaker. She was a woman, who looked exactly like Blue, but for her red, fine hair, that moved like fire.

"I don't make things up Red," Frog said, angrily.

"Of course he doesn't neesan," Blue said. "He can only charge so much for his news because it has proven to be true."

"There is always a first time."

"Not today," Frog said angrily.

"What else do you know?" Blue asked him, holding up a piece of Jade.

His eyes tracked the small bit of precious material then his gaze drifted to something off to Blue's right. She turned to look, saw he was looking towards the central temple.

She looked back at him, dropped the jade into his lap. "What?"

"They say Sparrow and Heron were champions of the Sun, and a Wyld Hunt called them Anathema, but the riders would not hear of it."

Blue looked up at Red. "Well worth a little bit of jade don't you think neesan?"

Red turned and looked towards the temple as well. "This time Blue-chan, this time."


	2. The Wyld Flower Prison

**Chapter 1 - The Wyld Flower Prison Beyond Creation**

Once, the Solar Exalted had marked the boundary between Creation and Chaos with vast, jade monoliths. The constructs were more than just signs, for they also denied the Wyld and protected Creation.

Then the Solar Exalted looked out into the Chaos that lay beyond these markers and chose to make the Wyld theirs. And so they pushed out the boundaries of their lands, turning chaos into order. Often the new boundaries were again indicated with the monoliths of Jade, either new crafted or moved out from the more stable places of Creation.

In time the Solars fell, and many died in that war. The Great Contagion came and 9 in 10 would die. The forces of chaos would rush into the weakened Creation at those times, taking back the lands that had once been wrested from their grasp.

Many of the monoliths were destroyed, but some remained, to protect against the chaotic influence of the Wyld.

Many were sentinel at the current edges of Creation, but some guarded lands that had long ago been reclaimed by Wyld, creating pockets of Creation in the border and middle marches of the Wyld.

Over the centuries these were discovered by the Lunar Exalted, who patrolled the Wyld, and the Lunars were all too glad to claim them and find a use for them.

The Wyld Flower Prison was a place the Lunars had constructed to hold their prisoners, though it had been centuries since the Silver Pact had seen fit to imprison anyone there.

To reach it one had to always pass through a field of always changing flowers, where pools of water flowed into the sky, and steel wolves hunted. The pollen of the flowers was a powerful soporific and an even more powerful aphrodisiac. The steel wolves would couple with any victim of the flowers before they devoured them.

Few passed safely through the flowers without powerful protection.

But those that did, once they stepped out of the flowers and onto the neat lawns around Wyld Flower Prison, were safe enough. The obelisk was three times the size of most others one might fight, and was made from red jade as well as white. The red jade would spit fire at any creature of the Wyld that dared to cross the threshold.

When the prison had been in use many of those held there were simply left to make their ways upon that lawn, for no guards were needed when stepping beyond the confines meant certain doom.

But there was a structure for those prisoners who might be resourceful enough to pass the flowers.

Hovering over the obelisk was a structure of dark grey material. The greater structure was ovoid, over five hundred feet in height. The smaller structure was shaped similar to the larger, but only a tenth the height. They were connected by a pipe two hundred feet long.

The larger was the prison, the smaller served as a gateway and administrative building.

A small staff had been left at the prison, to maintain it, to watch out for the interests of the Silver Pack, to remind the creatures of the Wyld that it was not forgotten.

It was a staff that had recently changed, younger people replacing the older, for the prison once more saw use.

A single prisoner was housed in the Wyld Flower Prison.

A Death Knight, captured by a Lunar, sent beyond the borders of Creation.

* * *

><p>The prisoners' uniform was made of a soft, light blue material. Strong enough for regular wear, not so strong that the cloth might be used for much else than clothing. Pants, a loose, long sleeved shirt, and cloth slippers.<p>

In the Nihilistic Courtesan's case the uniform had been altered slightly, giving her a burial cloak of black silk. Someone understood there might be issues denying a Death Knight at least a few of the trappings of death.

Courtesan was not entirely certain how long she had been there, months at least.

She knew she was somewhere in the Wyld. She did not remember the journey that had brought here there, but the sense of the chaotic energies was a weight that was always upon her.

Sitting in a chair that, like the uniform, was comfortable but lacked any real uses beyond sitting, Courtesan read a book. Her cell was comfortable enough, more a suite really, with bathing facilities and a small room where she might exercise.

She was mostly bored, occasionally angry, but for the most part she was patiently waiting and thinking. The voices of the Neverborn were faint, easily ignored, so far from Creation and surrounded by the Wyld. After being driven by those voices for so long, so hard, to be able to simply ignore them was a luxury she had never dreamed.

Escape was not completely absent from her thoughts, but it was only an occasional and not entirely welcome visitor.

A soft chime made her put the book to the side.

"What do you want to speak about today?" she asked.

A voice, female, probably, asked, "Tell me your name."

"I am called Nihilistic Courtesan," she said.

"Your real name. What they called you before you became a Death Knight."

"That name is gone," Courtesan said.

It was not the first time she and her questioners had danced around the topic, it had become more of a ritual, something to start off the interrogation.

"Perhaps you could tell me where you were born?"

It was a new question, and new questions always made Courtesan pay attention. She paused, seeking that familiar yet uncomfortable feeling that would tell her if the Lunar was present. She did not find it.

Her next thought was whether to answer the question. In the past failure to answer had made them leave her alone for days of boredom. She saw no real harm in what they asked and she hated the boredom.

"There was a town, about a days ride from Great Forks. It was called 'Wayfarer's Rest', but it was destroyed more than a year ago. That is where I was born."

"Are there any servants of the Walker in Darkness operating out of there?"

"I don't think so," she said, thought of course she did not know. She knew little of the Walker's true military strength and disposition of forces, though she had hold her questioners what she knew, suspecting it would not harm Walker in the slightest.

There were more questions, most she had heard before in one form or another, and she knew they were making sure her story stayed consistent.

They wanted to know about the Death Lords, the Never Born, about any other Death Knights she might know. She really knew so little, but she shared what information she did have.

There were no other new questions that day, and eventually the interrogation ended. They thanked her and that was all.

She left her seat, and the book she had been reading. She climbed onto her bed and pulled the cloak around her. When would they send someone in to interrogate her directly? There would be much to learn if they were face to face with her.

And that would give her a chance to take a hostage and escape; or at the very least tell her more about her captors.

That was probably why they handled the interrogations remotely, why she had not seen a single person since she had woken up in this cell.

Really, she just wanted to see another person. Loneliness was beginning to tell on her.

It was almost enough to make her miss the whispers.

* * *

><p>The Fair Folk had always taken an interest in the pocket of Creation and the prison on it. It was a respectful interest, for the flowers and steel wolves were just as dangerous to the inhabitants of the Wyld as they were to visitors from Creation. And the lands protected by the jade obelisk were dangerous to all but the most powerful fair folk.<p>

The fae creature that wandered the periphery of the flowers was not among the most powerful. It was a cataphract, a warrior caste fair folk, and it had made the patrol many times.

It paused, turning towards a new comer. "Well hello," it said, drawing a lengthy sword from across its back. "Shall we do battle this..."

The axe swung out, taking its head from its shoulders.

* * *

><p>Garen served the Silver Pact, as his father and grandfather had. His great grandfather was a Lunar, and that bloodline allowed him access to some charms, and had awakened his essence. That bloodline also gave him goat like teeth and body hair that was more fur than hair.<p>

He patrolled the lawn of the prison, sometimes looking out over the flowers. He was not tempted by them, for he had been told how dangerous they were, but he always looked to see if something was coming. He had not thought that his service to the Silver Pact would be as a prison guard.

A patch of silver amongst the pinks and reds of a particular field of flowers caught his eyes. He stepped closer, mindful of the boundary between the lawn and the flowers. Was he looking at one of the wolves? He took a collapsible spy glass from his long coat and snapped it open, then brought it to his eye.

It was a one of the steel wolves, or it had been. Something had cut its head off.

He was turning back towards the prison when the butt of an axe took him in his right side, snapping a few of his lower ribs.

A heavy weight fell on him.

"I have some questions I will need you to answer," his attacker said. "You will answer them."

* * *

><p>The administrative section of the prison was reached, by most, by the lift system. The car rose up along a pole, opening on a short walkway. There should have been several guards there, both to stop possible escapes, and to examine anyone who might want to enter the prison.<p>

It had been so long since the prison had been used that proper procedures had been forgotten.

No one stopped the figure in black who stepped from the lift and crossed the walkway to enter the prison.

* * *

><p>Courtesan sat up on her bed, wondering if she had heard a scream. Turning her head she listened, wishing she had the essence to sharpen her senses. She could not be sure, there might have been an echo of the sound, but it was so faint.<p>

Several minutes later she heard a louder sound. A loud click and metal sliding on metal. Then a section of wall she had suspected might hide a door opened up, confirming her suspicions.

A tall, middled aged man stepped into the room, pulled the door closed behind him, juggling a cloth bundle in his hands as he did so. "Here," he said after he had closed the door, and tossed the bundle towards Courtesan.

Curious, and a little off balance, she caught the bundle as she examined the man. Thick, curly brown hair, greying slightly, bushy beard, small brown eyes, pale skin; he might have been from almost anywhere in Creation, but for this wolf like ears and large teeth. He wore a black buff jacket and a long sword sheathed at his side.

The bundle he had given her was a light grey buff jacket and long knife, almost a short sword. "Someone has come for me," she said, and then pulled the buff jacket on.

"They are here for someone, and I can't see it being anyone else but you," he told her. His large teeth did not fit well in his mouth, and gave his voice a strange, flat tone.

"Did you see who it was?" She belted the knife around her waist, pulling at the blade to make sure it would easily slide free of the sheath. A bow would have made her feel better.

"No, not directly, but I heard whoever it is was dressed in all black armour, and carried a huge axe."

That might be anyone, Courtesan thought, but she only nodded.

"Follow me," the man said, crossing the room to another section of wall she had also been suspicious of. He did something with a small box, there was another click and again the sound of metal sliding on metal. He had opened another of the hidden doors.

She stepped out, he followed, closing the door behind them. They were in a long corridor, doors, like the one she had just exited, spaced along it in uneven intervals. The beastman went ahead, moving quickly, his long strides forcing her to run.

It had been so long since she had been near someone living she fancied she could smell his blood, and the essence it contained. However she was not certain that she might best him in the conflict it would require to get his blood. And at the moment she was fairly certain she needed his help.

They reached an intersection here the man paused, and Courtesan managed to catch up. He held up a hand to forestall any questions. He was listening, Courtesan realized, and she took a similar pose.

She saw him stiffen, and she thought she might have heard a scream.

"We're cut off," he said.

Courtesan looked around, licked her lips. "We have three different directions."

He shook his head. "All dead ends, or..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. "Go to the left, follow the corridor until it comes to an end. There will be a door there. Use this," he held the box out, "press the green and then the brown switches, that will open it."

She took the box, looking it over, taking note of the coloured switches and the small, coloured, gem like protrusions.

"When you open the door, look at the box. If the yellow gem is flashing don't continue into the room. It's a choke point, the room, and if the defences are active it will tear you apart."

"And if they are not active?"

"Cross the room, exit through the door directly opposite to the way you enter. Outside of the room, on the door frame, there is an indentation that will fit that box. Put it in and press the red and black switches. That will arm the room. Anyone following you will be the one torn apart, or at least slowed."

"What about you? What will you do?"

"I am going to continue straight, maybe lead them off, give you time."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

He smiled at her, showing his too many and too large teeth. "I swore to serve the Silver Pact's interests, even unto death. We were told to keep you contained, and to keep you safe." He turned and started away from her.

"Wait, what's your name?"

He looked back. "Mattou. If I don't make it, remember it will you? I don't plan to become a ghost, and it will be nice to know someone might think well of me." Then he turned away from her and continued on, lengthening his pace.

Courtesan watched him for a moment, then turned and ran down the corridor he had indicated, following it until she reached the door. The device she carried opened it, and the yellow gem remained dark.

Beyond the door was a large room, with several other doors leading into it. A choke point, she thought. In case of a mass escape, force the prisoners into one place to deal with them. Clever, she decided.

The far door opened for her, and outside the room, in a curving corridor, she found the indentation, followed the instructions she had been given.

Taking a few steps back brought her against the wall. She leaned against it, the box clutched tightly in her hands. Who had come for her, she wondered. Was the Faded Maiden chasing her once more, or had Walker sent someone else? Or was it the servant of some other Deathlord, perhaps the followers of the Mask of Winters, seeking some sort of revenge for her trespass on his lands?

Not enough information, she decided, and looked to her left and right, at the curving corridor that limited her visibility. After a moment she turned to her left and set off at a quick walk.

The corridor continued on with its gentle curve, and she wondered if it would eventually lead her back to where she had started. Before she might have that question answered Courtesan came upon a set of stairs, leading up and down. She paused for a moment, then chose to go up.

For perhaps an hour she wandered the prison, continuing upwards when she found stairs, sometimes opening doors to pass through cross corridors. It was a huge prison, with floors of suite like cells, similar to where she had been interned, and in other places the cells were simply single small rooms.

In a room that looked like a hospital she paused to look through storage cupboards. The medical supplies within looked old; bandages in paper covers that had grown brittle, bottles holding gummy liquids and various pastes and unguents that were almost powder.

Then she found the instruments. Several scalpels, their blades still honed razor sharp, as well as some spike like probes. From the back of one cupboard she found a wicked looking bone saw with a solid heft.

Her investigation was interrupted by a sound from outside the room; a soft, bumping sound. As it did not seem to be the sound of metal boots on the floor she crept to the door and opened it.

She found herself face to face with a zombie.

Courtesan had seen zombies before, but none so freshly dead, and none that attacked her. She leaped back, swinging the bone saw out, catching it across the skull, the blade crunching deep into bone. The zombie stumbled to the side yanking the bone saw from her hand.

Ducking to avoid its attempt to grab her, she ran out of the room, breathing heavily. No essence, and close up fights were not what she had been trained for. The safe distance of the bow was her preferred way of fighting.

Ahead of her another of the undead stumbled from a corridor, turning a ruined face towards her. She continued towards it, then dropped, sliding along the floor, under its graceless attempt to grab her, then rolled to her feet, running once more.

Two more zombies ahead of her forced her to double back, then climb a set of stairs to get clear.

She stopped for a moment, breathing heavily. The zombies must have been the prison's staff, now raised from the dead and set to hunt her.

Or herd her.

No time to dwell on that. She fled down another of the curved corridors, hoping to find another set of stairs. Ahead of her, coming around the the curve, she saw another group of zombies.

How were they moving so fast? There could not have been that many people to be raised.

As the dead were still some distance from her she paused for a moment, looking at them. She recognized Mattou, from his thick beard, thought it was covered in blood. She might have felt bad for the man, except she was too concerned with staying alive.

There was a door close by. Threading the interior corridors would take more time, but she could not go forward and did not want to go back. She unlocked the door, crossed the threshold and then locked the door behind her.

A moment later she was running again, along the corridors, seeking another door that would lead her to the outer corridor.

She opened a door, gently pushing it open, peeking through.

The door was suddenly yanked open, pulling her forward. She might have screamed, but a hand grasped her across the mouth, silencing her. She was pulled up straight, handled roughly, but her attacker was no zombie, nor figure in black armour. It was the Lunar who had captured her.

"Do not scream," she said softly.

Courtesan looked into dark eyes that held no sympathy. She nodded.

"Are you hurt." The hand came away from her mouth.

"No," Courtesan said.

"Then let's go." She took Courtesan's arm around the wrist and led her into a hallway, towards a blank wall.

With a box similar to the one that Courtesan herself carried she revealed a hidden door. Lightning directed Courtesan through the door, into a small room beyond. As soon as they were in the door closed and she felt the room begin to move.

"A lift?" she asked Lightning.

"People mover." Lightning released her hold. "Moves horizontally as well."

It might explain how the zombies kept up with her.

"Where are we going?"

"Out. We're leaving the prison."

The Lunar did not seemed to want to look at her anymore than she had to.

"How is it you are here, at this time?"

Her gaze shifted, she looked at Courtesan for a moment before looking elsewhere. "I heard some rumours of a Death Knight in the area. If they were true it was likely you were the target. Was almost too late I suppose."

Courtesan did not reply to that, not sure how to feel about her rescue.

The people mover shifted a few times, both up and down as well as sideways. The Lunar did not seem to be doing anything. Courtesan supposed she had set it when they had entered.

It stopped and the door opened. "Hold it," she said, looking at Courtesan.

Courtesan looked back. "What?"

"You are in no shape for this." She took a small knife from her belt and with a quick motion cut the skin between her wrist and elbow. "You need essence."

Courtesan leaned in towards the wound, the blood and the essence within. Her lips just touched the wound, the salty, coppery scent rich in her nose, when she pressed the blade of the knife against her neck. "Don't drink too much," she warned.

With a blade at her throat she put her lips around the wound and began to drink, feeling essence flow into her, feeling stronger for it. She wanted to drink so much, but she pulled her face away from the arm, wiped away at the blood around her lips. "Thank you."

The Lunar wiped at the blood on her arm, streaking it along her skin, the wound already closed. "Don't get used to the idea," she said, grabbed Courtesan around the wrist, and pulled her along.

They had not gone far before their way was blocked by several zombies; behind them stood a figure in black armour surrounded by the black flames of an Abyssal anima.

Even hidden as she was in the armour, Courtesan knew Faded Maiden of the Tomb.

"Damnable things." The Lunar released her hold on Courtesan and drew her daiklaive.

Across from them the Faded Maiden lifted her grimcleaver.

The two moved at each other, blades intersecting with a peel of steel on steel. The Faded Maiden leaned into her attack, trying to drive the daikliave down. The Lunar's body shifted, her form growing more muscular, and she lifted her blade, knocking the axe up high, sending the Faded Maiden back a few steps.

The zombies came at the Lunar, trying to grab her, to bite her. Sweeping her blade around her finished off a number of the dead, but slowed her, giving the Faded Maiden a moment to regain her footing. When she came at the Lunar again she did not attack with brute strength, but speed, her blade making fast, graceful sweeps, several of which contacted, leaving shallow gashes across the Lunar's skin.

She was forced to fall back as she blocked the axe blows, turning the blade, countering, her moonsilver daiklaive clanging against the armour as often as not. It was not slowing the Faded Maiden.

"Bugger this," she growled, as her form grew, scales flashing across her skin, fingers thickening, nails becoming claws. She was nearly three feet taller, and much heavier. It was the Lunar's warform, some strange amalgam of clawstrider and human. It was terrifying.

A heavily muscled arm lashed out with the daiklaive, scattering zombies and knocking the Faded Maiden into a wall. She grabbed Courtesan with the opposite clawed hand and charged forward, crushing the few zombies that tried to get in her way.

"Courtesan, you shall die, your ghost shall she stretched out before the Walker in Darkness and flayed for all its secrets!"

The shout had a force of will and essence behind it, bringing with it child winds that numbed Courtesan, leaving her frostbitten as if she had been out in a blizzard for days.

The Lunar picked up her pace, soon leaving the Faded Maiden behind, her voice fading.

She shifted back to her human form, pulling Courtesan along as she turned a corner into a long, straight corridor.

"Why didn't you kill her?" Courtesan asked. She was trembling from the cold that the Faded Maiden's attack had summoned.

"I didn't have time," she said as she held up her key box. Behind them a door closed off the corridor. "And she was more interested in killing you. Probably would have thrown her life away if she thought she could take you. I don't fight that kind of a crazy."

"What?"

"She wants you dead. Staying to fight was a stupid move."

For a moment she was too surprised to say anything. She could not quite understand the Faded Maiden being willing to die just to kill her. "The Walker in Darkness must have really worked her over."

Behind them they heard a sound, metal screeching on metal.

"She's going to cut her way through," she said, moving faster, pulling Courtesan roughly along.

The corridor exited into a large room, there were lockers there, and desks. "What is this?" Courtesan asked.

"Administrative section," she explained, releasing her hold on Courtesan as she turned her attention to the lockers.

Courtesan looked around, found a great deal of blood staining the floor. She supposed that the Faded Maiden had already passed through there.

She heard one of the lockers open, turned to find the Lunar holding out her soulsteel bow and a quiver of arrows. "Keep them in the main prison section. Don't let them get close."

Courtesan reached out and took the bow. It had been a long time since she had held it, but it was familiar to her, and as soon as she fed her essence into the weapon it was once more part of her. "What are you going to do?" She slung the quiver over her shoulder.

"Emergency protocol," she said brusquely, turning away from Courtesan.

Courtesan watched for a moment as she stopped before a closed door, using her key box to open it, stepping through.

She would have gone and looked in, but the screeching of the far off door being hacked through claimed her attention.

Drawing an arrow from the quiver she took a few steps, placing herself at the end of the corridor, looking down towards the far end. There were many rents in the door, it would not be long before it was breached.

She put the arrow to the string, drew back and released. The shaft zipped across the intervening space and slid through one of the rents.

Hard to say if she had hit anything, but the cutting stopped for a few seconds.

Then the door exploded forward, a number of zombies leading the way, the Faded Maiden in their wake.

Courtesan put several arrows down the hall in a matter of heartbeats, trying to hit the Faded Maiden, but with the zombies in the way she only managed glancing hits. Heavily armoured, the Faded Maiden continued moving forward, unhindered.

There as an alarm, but it was cut off in a moment, and she heard the Lunar yell something that might have been 'almost'.

Drawing on her dwindling essence Courtesan drew back, lined up her arrow, and released. On her forehead her caste mark bled down her face, as black flames danced around the head of the arrow. It punched straight through the head of one of the zombies, continued straight, and slammed in to the Faded Maiden's helm.

The wood of the shaft flexed, snapped, and the Faded Maiden stumbled backwards.

Courtesan knew she had missed the eye slot in the helm, even before the Faded Maiden straightened. However, she did not continue forward at such speed, and lifted her axe, holding it before her as if it were a shield.

Something banged loudly as metal rung out on metal, and the corridor moved.

The Lunar grabbed Courtesan from behind as the corridor fell away, and then spun, so fast that she only had a moment to see the Faded Maiden thrown up against the wall.

Then the huge form of the prison spun the corridor completely away, and she suddenly realized how huge her prison had been. Just as that was dawning on her the structure shot away from, moving faster and faster, dwindling in the distance. She could picture of the force of the acceleration tossing the Faded Maiden down the corridor and back into prison proper.

"What happened?"

"Emergency Protocol," she told her, slipping the quiver of arrows off of Courtesan's shoulder. "In case of mass prison break. It won't stop until it is several Way Points away."

"Way Points?" Courtesan looked at her.

"Hard to explain," the Lunar said, turning away and walking towards the exit. "It will be some time before she can catch up. She'll probably survive, unless something big decides to take interest in her."

Courtesan followed after her, looking at the bow that she had been left holding. The soul steel was solid, she might be able to hit her hard enough to knock her down, perhaps grab the quiver in the struggle. The bow string could even be used as a garrotte.

Their fight while falling from the Mask of Winters' citadel flashed through her mind. They had then fought pretty much to a draw, but the Lunar had enjoyed the support of that tiger and the child Solar. Now it would just be the two of them.

She had options. Not good ones. The Lunar's vast war form would likely render any attack she might make pointless. And Courtesan was almost depleted of essence.

And at the moment the Lunar seemed to be willing to protect Courtesan.

"What's your name?" She put the bow over her shoulder.

"You can call me Lightning," she said, not looking back.

A name that made sense, but probably not the one she had been born with.

Not that Courtesan was in the position to judge.

They exited to a small walkway that ended in a lift. Courtesan looked out a lawn, surrounded by a field of flowers.

"It looks beautiful," she said.

Lightning had stopped in the lift. She turned and offered her hand to Courtesan.

Courtesan, feeling a sudden tightness in her chest, reached out and took the offered hand.

Lightning clapped a manacle over Courtesan's wrist, turned her and locked her other hand in the matching manacle, securing both her hands behind her back.

Before she could say anything she felt a ball forced into her mouth, and then straps pulled tight around her head, gagging her.

As Lightning led her, tight hand on Courtesan's upper arm, Courtesan supposed it was sensible enough. She did bite after all.

* * *

><p>The prison had come to a stop on a ridge made of porcelain plates and cups. Hundreds of thousands had been shattered by the impact, shards of sharp glass sliding down the ridge like water.<p>

The Faded Maiden climbed from the corridor, looking out on an insane landscape of dinnerware. Below her at the base of the ridge a silver river of flatware flowed. There was, in the distance, a city, surrounded by a haze that made her suspect she would discover it made from tea pots.

She jumped down, glass crunching under her boots as she slid down the ridge.

"Courtesan," she hissed.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes About the Exalted World<strong>

The Topography of Creation and the Wyld

You can look at Creation as being a snow globe which floats within a sea of infinite possibility. The snow globe description is apt as Creation is a flat base covered by a dome of diamond to protect it from the Wyld. If is possible to leave Creation and enter the Wyld, but not advised. Close to the borders of Creation the Wyld has some pattern forced upon it, but the farther you go, the less the laws of Creation hold any sway. Eventually you would reach pure chaos, which is not an environment conducive to living. The Powerful Exalts and some gods can travel out into pure chaos, but not much else.

The Primordials who created Creation came from the Wyld. And there are other entities in that Chaos.

Music

White Lightning by Danny Michelle might describe how Lightning feels about Courtesan


	3. The Monk Who Smelt of Brass

**The Monk who smelt of Brass**

In the north of Creation the Travellers's Road was often cited as one of the great constructs on the region. A straight, granite road, 20 yards wide, stretching from Wallport to Whitewall. It was always warm, even in the coldest weather, and those who committed violence on it were compelled to hang themselves.

However, there were other great constructions, like the Jallian Fjord. The Fjord was a perfectly square cut channel, in the cliffs between Iceholme and Ironfall, over fifteen miles long. One hundred yards across, with a consistent water depth of fifty feet, it ran straight, but for a gentle bow in the middle that cut the northern winds that would have otherwise blown straight in.

At the far end was the town of Jallian. Ten thousand people worked the mines or the forests farther north from the city, or fished in the inner sea, or farmed lands warmed by hundreds of hot springs, or built boats and ships.

It was a Realm Tributary, but as it was not a place of great import to the Dynasts Jallian suffered from a benign neglect that suited the people fine.

It was governed by a headman called the Jall. The current Jall was a woman named Glinsa Ufi.

Glinsa Ufi and her town would have been of no interest to Heron except for the fact that the Ice Tree was only fifty miles south west of Jallian and it was the primary source of labour that Lightning and Sparrow had drawn on when they had first set up.

It was the Season of Descending Wood, soon the Season of Ascending Fire would start and even the North would be warmed. The fire that burnt in the hearth of the room was not really needed, but was peasant enough, for the sun was low on the horizon, but the room's large windows were open to the refreshing though cool breeze.

Heron stood near the hearth where the fire burnt, a glass of brandy in his hand. He had been shown to the room almost thirty minutes before, with assurances the Jall would see him soon.

On a table in front of a large settee were the remains of the meal he had been served. He had no real complaints about his treatment, it was all polite enough, and the food and drink had been quite good. He did not think that the Jall was playing games, at least not yet.

There was a sound from beyond the room, and a moment later the servant that had shown him in - a small, bespectacled man in long, grey robes - entered. "Rouva Jade Eyes," he said (Heron allowed the feminine title without comment), "The Jall, Rouva Ufi."

Announced, Glinsa entered the room. A woman of middle years, brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, well dressed, average appearance; Heron might have thought her ultimately forgettable had he not known just what she was capable of. "Jall," Heron said, dipping his head politely. "Thank you for your hospitality." He lifted the glass, which might be taken as indication of the reception, or a toast.

The answering smile had a feigned warmth to it. "Thank you Rouva Jade Eyes."

"Please, call me Heron."

"Heron. Very pretty." She walked over to the settee and sat. "That will be all Olfan," she said to the servant, and then to Heron. "Please sit and we will talk."

"Thank you Jall," Heron said, and left the hearth to take a seat beside Glinsa.

"Well, what do you say we get right down to the business that brought you here. I understand that there are issues at the Ice Tree?"

Heron took another drink of his brandy then put the glass down on the table. "It seems some of the workers have heard disturbing things from their families. A suggestion that if they remain working at the Ice Tree their families might suffer from it."

Jall looked surprised. "I was not aware."

Heron nodded. "It is a recent thing. Apparently there is a criminal behind it, a man named Cammin, called the Edge by some."

She nodded. "I am aware of Cammin the Edge, a most unpleasant criminal. He does not cause any problems to Jallian, but he is a danger to the smaller villages farther out. An extortionist and bandit of the worst stripe."

"So I have heard. I have also heard unsettling rumours..."

Glinsa laughed. "The rumours that the Edge works for Jallian, keeping the villages tied to us through fear?"

Heron put on an embarrassed smile and nodded. "Just so."

"There will always be stories like that. I wish that I had the forces to put a stop to his actions, but the guard of Jallian does not have the manpower to police the lands beyond our borders effectively. All we can do is chase him off."

Heron picked up his glass. "Well, then this is good news."

"Good news?"

Heron looked at the window. "If you leave now, you can make it to the Hanging Tree while the sun is up."

"The Hanging Tree? I don't understand."

Heron smiled at her. "You will find Cammin and his men hanging from the tree, all dead of course. You should have your exorcist strengthen the salt wards around the tree, and perform the proper rituals."

Glinsa stared at him for a few seconds. She then jumped to her feet, her shins banging the table, and ran from the room.

Heron stood and went to pour himself a fresh glass of brandy. He took the time to look about the room. He picked up and examined over various bits of art work, from scrimshaw animal carvings to a piece of twisted moonsilver that had probably come from some much larger artifact. A shelf was full of books that looked, he thought as he flipped through one, like that had been read more than once. It spoke of someone who was well off, he thought, pouring himself more of the brandy, but not fabulously rich.

Someone who wanted people to know they were well off, but did not want to be gauche about it.

Glinsa came back into the room sometime later. She was panting, her clothing dishevelled, hair in disarray. Heron poured her a glass of whisky which he thought might be a better choice than brandy and handed it to her.

She looked at it for a moment, as if not certain what it was, or what to do with it. Then she lifted it to her lips and almost gulped it down.

"They're dead," she said. She held out her glass. Heron refilled it. She drank the second a little slower, and again said, "They are all dead. All of them."

Heron nodded. "I know. I killed them. All of them"

She shook her head, took a few stumbling steps to the settee and nearly fell onto it. "You couldn't. Cammin, he was a monster. He killed six men with his bare hands once."

Heron shook his head, smiling. "Hardly a monster. Skilled, yes, but ultimately a man. A man who died poorly." He paused and took a sip of his brandy. "A man who had things to say before he died. Things about you."

"Lies," Glinsa said weakly.

Heron took a seat next to her. "Hardly. Your actions offend me. I considered hanging you up on that tree with the rest."

Glinsa flinched as if hit. "I... I..."

"You what? Needed to keep the outlying villages in line, and a bandit group was useful in that? You wanted to make Cammin your tool, so you could keep him under control?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Of course it was. And it will not be again. There will be justice here from now on. Do you understand me?" He held her gaze, force of personality not letting her look away.

She nodded, swallowed, and said, "I understand."

"Then all that is left is for you to tell me why you did it."

"Why?"

"What the purpose of it. As far as I can tell you are benefitting from the activity at the Ice Tree."

"The monk told me it was not a good idea to help you," she said slowly, as if dragging each word up from a great depth.

"An immaculate?"

She shook her head. "No. He did not speak of the Dragons, or Anathema, but of the true gods."

Heron kept his eyes on her, reading the many little tells of her body language. He frowned. "This monk, does he have a name?"

"He said he was called Kenta."

"What did he look like?" Heron leaned in closer.

"Tall, well built, dark skin, red hair. He was a Dragon Blood."

Heron got to his feet. "We're done here. If you want to cut connections with the Ice Tree ask your people to come back, you may do so, but no threats. You would be wise to bet on the Ice Tree, but the choice is yours." He walked towards the door, pausing to put his glass down and look over his shoulder. "I don't want to come back here."

Then he left, putting Glinsa from his mind.

Outside Dragon waited, and walked towards Heron as he exited the building. Grasping the saddle-horn he pulled himself up into the saddle. "Let's go," he said.

Dragon moved through the darkening town at a quick pace, hooves ringing on the cobblestone streets, threading his way through the people heading home.

Ahead of him, at the main gate, people where gathered near the hanging tree, with is strange fruits of death. A woman in a white robe was chanting and walking the perimeter of salt around the tree. Heron paused on the edge of the town to take it in, then gently flicked the reigns. Dragon took off at a trot, soon lengthening to a run that made the ground fly by.

A blooded monk, tall, red hair, but not an immaculate. One who spoke of true gods. There were some possibilities, but the one that worried him most was that it might mean the Yozis. And if the Yozis were taking an interest in the Ice Tree he would have to know.

There were villages in the area, and he made one before the sun was fully set. People who lived in such places were wise to be wary of the dangers of the night and would not welcome a stranger who arrived in the dead of the evening.

They might not welcome one who arrived with the setting sun, but Heron was more than charming enough to put the gate watchmen at ease.

The village was named Gutter, and the single inn and tavern shared the same name. Heron tied Dragon loosely up in front of the inn and then went in. It was a crowded, and smokey, filled with tired people, mostly miners, who were, at best, wary of strangers.

It took Heron about five minutes to win them all over.

Sitting at the bar, drinking on other people's coin, he searched out sign of Yozi influence. His primary concern was demon cults close to the Ice Tree. It would take time to stomp them out, and would certainly cost them the goodwill of people in the area.

By the time the last of the revellers were stumbling out of the inn Heron was fairly certain that there were no demon cults in Gutter. He would need to visit the other villages and towns, but he had picked Gutter at random, so that it was clean was a good sign.

He stepped out of the inn, wondering if he would take a room or head out into the night. Dragon stood where he had left him, standing sleepily near a trough of water. He came fully awake as Heron approached, and pushed at Heron with his nose. Heron reached up and rubbed his fingers behind Dragon's ears.

For a time he was pleased enough to spend a few quiet minutes with his horse, but when Dragon snorted out a concerned breath and grew more watchful Heron turned and looked in the way the horse was looking.

From a dark alleyway came a figure, a familiar woman in a blue kimono. Heron reached back and grasped a double-barrelled flame wand, swinging it out and pointing it as the new comer. Torchlight caused the orichalcium barrels the glow.

"What are you doing here Dreaming Blue?" Heron asked.

The Sidereal stopped and inclined her head politely. "And pleased am I to see you Heron Jade Eyes, Verity Jinx, Blossom or Chalim Ofons, whoever you are at the moment."

"Not impressed, now why are you here?"

"I am here to help you."

"To help me?"

"Do you really wish to speak of this, out here?"

Heron looked around, supposing that no one was listening, but she had a point. Putting the flame wand over his shoulder he started off, Dragon as his side. He heard Dreaming Blue following after him, thought she might have tripped once.

There was an area, near the palisade, an open area, likely used as a market. No one could come too close. "How do you think you can help me," he asked, turning, swinging his weapon so it once more pointed at Dreaming Blue.

"This dragon blood you seek, he is..."

"Akuma, yes, I already surmised."

Dreaming Blue frowned, the shadows on her face shifting as if living things in the far off torch light. "Do you know where he is?"

Heron lowered his weapon. "Not at the moment."

"I will take you too him."

"And you benefit from this how, other than dealing with an Akuma."

"Isn't that enough?" she stepped closer, smiling.

"Not for a Sidereal."

"Fair enough." She sighed, and smoothed down the front of her kimono with a series of nervous hand movements. "The god of children has asked that Ivory Peleps enjoy the protection of Sidereals. I am that protection."

"That sounds fairly ridiculous."

Dreaming Blue laughed softly. "Oh, it is indeed ridiculous, but the god Lady Aisha Hikari Ex is in favour of many powerful gods, and what she asks for, she gets."

"And the reason you are not at the Ice Tree?"

"The Twilight is safe enough where she is for the moment."

"And she would probably sick her tiger on you?"

"Well there is that," Dreaming Blue said with a dismissive shift of her head. "I am sure I could convince her to accept my presence, but it would be easier with your assistance. The girl will do whatever you tell her to do in a desperate attempt to get your approval."

Heron, who suspected that Dreaming Blue was right, said, "Don't dismiss Ivory, it would be something of a mistake."

"Oh, I don't take her lightly, but I can recall being a young girl and desperately in love with an older person. If you ask, she will do."

"I don't trust you."

"That is wise," she said with a nod of her head. "I have also been placed here by Chejop Kejak to be your advisor, to keep you out of trouble, or more to the point, to keep Creation safe from you. Secretly I have been sent to find evidence that will allow him to act against you, legally."

"You are not helping your case."

"I am telling you this so you know that I will be watching you. However, I will not falsify evidence, or create it, and I will give you the benefit of the doubt, but you need to bring me into your circle."

"We are not enemies of Creation. Watch all you want from the outside, you will find nothing."

"Be careful what you say Heron Jade Eyes, you and yours are not so innocent."

Heron shifted his flame piece, as if he was ready to bring it up.

"However, I do no believe that you are enemies of Creation. You have put down the Mask of Winters, something that my fellowship failed to do. I can be useful to you."

"I do not trust you or your fellowship."

"I will lead you to the Akuma, I will help you deal with him. Perhaps that might go some distance to earning your trust?"

Heron did not answer her immediately, but after a moment he returned the flame wand to the sheath on Dragon's saddle. "We'll see I suppose. Let's go and find this Akuma."

* * *

><p>It was not close, the place that Dreaming Blue directed him to, but with Dragon's charm enhanced speed it did not take long to arrive. Dreaming Blue had ridden behind him, clinging tightly the whole way.<p>

She slipped off of Dragon's back while Heron remained in the saddle, looking down into the small valley. An airboat was tethered to a large table, and on the ground around it was a neat camp of several tents and a large fire pit.

"This is it?"

"It is," Dreaming Blue said, taking a few steps closer to the edge of the valley. "The Akuma is good at hiding his trail, but not that good."

Heron climbed down from Dragon's back, and pulled the double barrelled flame wand from its sheath. "Very well." He started towards a path that led down into the valley.

"You are just going to walk in there?" Dreaming Blue asked, following after him.

"That is what I intend."

"You're confident."

"No, I just don't trust you completely."

She said nothing to that.

They were nearly at the foot of the trail when a watchman, a heavily built man who looked at if he had some blood ape in his ancestry, saw them. He shouted out an alarm as he grabbed up a long spear.

The camp woke, the people around the fire pit getting to their feet and taking up arms.

"Who are you?" the Sentry demanded, the spear held out in front of him defensively. Near the fire a tall, thin figure had readied a bow, while the others were running towards the sentry, swords and other weapons drawn.

"I want to speak with the monk," Heron said, flame wand pointed at the ground.

"Speak to me," the sentry growled.

Three others, two men and a women, all with an alien quality that suggested demon blood, had joined the sentry. From the tents came more people, in various states of dress and readiness. Heron counted twenty.

From the central tent came the man Heron had sought. Tall, red haired, wearing robes similar in cut to those that the immaculate order wore, but black with brass and purple highlights. "Hold," he called out. "I wish to meet with our late night guests."

The sentry and the others around him looked back at the monk, but after a moment stepped aside. They did not lower their weapons however.

Unconcerned Heron walked forward, past the armed men and women, towards the monk who now stood near the fire pit. Dreaming Blue followed behind him, a few steps between them.

"Who are you?" Heron asked as he stopped about ten paces from the fire pit.

"I am Sessus Kenta."

Heron looked about for a moment then said, "No longer really a Sessus now though."

Kenta laughed. "True enough. I count the servants of the true god as my family."

"If they were true gods they would not have been defeated and locked away in hell," Heron said.

"You should be careful what you say Heron Jade Eyes," Kenta said, taking a step forward.

Heron smiled. "Thank you. I believe that you have told me everything I need."

The way the shadows fell on Kenta's face changed as he scowled. "Kill them," he ordered.

"Take care of this and I will tell Ivory to put up with you," Heron said to Dreaming Blue.

"Oh you son of a..." The rest of her words were lost as she turned to face the big sentry who was charging them, spear thrust in front of him.

She lifted her foot in a crescent kick, brining it down on the spear head, driving it into the ground, the big man coming to a sudden stop. With a light step, lacking any of her prior clumsiness, she walked along the shaft so she might kick the man in the jaw, foot slamming into chin, head snapping back with a crack.

Vaulting over collapsing body she landed between two of the others. The long, flowing sleeve of her kimono wrapped around the forehead of one, and with an elegant shift of her hips she snapped his neck, and turned him so his corpse blocked a sword strike from another.

Heron was watching Dreaming Blue fight, but he was not unaware of what was happening around him. The archer had lifted her bow and fired at him. With a deceptively careless move he used the barrels of his flame wand to knock the arrow aside, sending it off to embed itself in the throat of another enemy.

The archer was reaching for a new arrow when a sword appeared to suddenly sprout in her chest. Dreaming Blue, who had thrown it, pushed a dead body (the sword's previous owner) down into the path of other attackers, tripping them up. The sleeves of her kimonos were like living things as she used them, trapping opponents' weapons and limbs within the silken embrace for the moment she needed to kill them.

Heron was not the only one watching the fighting and not getting involved. Kenta also watched, looking between Heron and Dreaming Blue, waiting.

A few times Heron had to step aside, avoiding an attack and sending the attacker towards Dreaming Blue. She was, he decided, amazing. It was not that he could not have killed all the people there himself, but he could not have done it with such grace. Effective as they were, flame weapons were messy.

Having retrieved the sentry's spear, she used it like a staff, spinning it about as she turned, blocking attacks, and then countering with lethal intent.

With a last spear thrust a small, hairy man died, the spear buried in his guts.

"You are a bastard," she said to Heron. Her hair had come out of its neat style, hanging in disarray around her face, and she was covered with blood spatter. The neat bow of her obi was skewed, and the left side of her kimono and under kimono pulled to the side, showing a swell of breast.

Heron smiled at her. "I've been called worst." His attention returned to Kenta. "Any point to all this?"

"The Yozi can be excellent allies Heron Jade Eyes. As can you be to them. Can you really trust the Sidereal?"

Heron shook his head and raised his double barrelled flame wand, pointing it at the monk.

Kenta laughed. "I am a fire aspect. I have little to fear from flame weapons."

Heron pulled both triggers.

From the barrels erupted a cloud of white fire, within the blast a flaming tiger leapt, crashing down on Kenta.

Obscured by flames Heron could not see him, but heard his short lived screams.

A moment later the flames dissipated, the tiger of plasma remaining for a moment before it winked out.

What was left behind was a badly burnt corpse that looked as if it had been savaged.

Dreaming Blue stepped up and looked down at the body. She looked at Heron. "You pointed that thing at me," she said, accusation in her tone.

"Ivory made it," Heron told her, snapping the barrel open, ejecting a pair of red jade shell casings, covered in orichalcium filigree. As they sailed through the air it was as if the air whistling through the open ends was a soft prayer, and when they hit the ground, the metal ringing out was a like an affirmation of belief. "She called it a tiger gun."

Dreaming Blue looked from corpse to Heron and back again. "She's dangerous."

"Only to people who she does not like," Heron reached into his pocket and brought forth two new shells.

"Do you really believe that?"

Heron slotted the two shells into the weapon and snapped it closed. "I trust her far more than I trust you."

"Not really answering my question."

Heron smiled, turned and walked further into the camp, taking some time to check the tents, to make sure they were empty. "This all rings false," he said.

Dreaming Blue had knelt by Kenta's corpse. She looked up from the body. "It all does seem to be off."

"Bluffing with no cards in front of you," he said.

She stood, looked about. "What was the point of it?"

Heron swung his weapon around so it was pointing at the airship. "That."

"The airship?"

"If it had been Ivory or Sparrow Hawk who had come to deal with this issue, they would have taken that ship."

"So everyone we killed was just a blind?"

"To sweeten the pot. To have that sitting in the middle of our holding."

"Cold blooded, as you would expect of the Yozi." She walked up to stand beside him. "What are you going to do?"

Heron, weapon still extended, pull the triggers. The flames and the tiger of plasma flowed from the barrels, washing towards the air ship. Splashing across the hull the flames ignited the wood, rapidly climbed the rope, and then set the airbag aflame.

Something screamed.

Heron put the tiger gun aside, summoning his plasma tongue repeaters. "Let us see what the Yozis had hidden."

Dreaming Blue's daiklaive was in her hands.

There was a sound of creaking and snapping wood, of tearing cloth, and the entire ship bucked and turned as the fire claimed more and more of the structure. Then, with a screech of metal, it humped up, like a whale breaching, and snapped in two.

Like some strange creature emerging from a sea of fire a giant stood from the burning wreckage. No, Heron thought, not raising from, for the wreckage was actually part of it.

It stood nearly fifty feet tall, the keel making up its spine, metal and the wood from the ships frame its skeleton. From it back, like a cape, the ripped and burning air bag hung.

Huge hands beat out flames, with a sound like a ship crashing into ice.

"What is that?" Dreaming Blue asked, staring up.

"Demon, construct, behemoth, maybe some strange mix of all three."

Most of the fires out the giant turned its gaze, twin orbs lit by a red glow, towards them.

"How are we going to kill it?"

"That is an excellent question."

With a creaking scream of wood scraping against wood the giant stumbled towards them with an awkward gait, and seemed almost to fall forward as it brought a huge hand down as if to crush them.

Heron jumped to the side, rolled on his shoulder, and came up, a few steps away from where the hand struck. He had not seen how Dreaming Blue had avoided the attack, but the SIdereal stood unharmed, a few steps from the hand.

In a few steps Heron was upon the hand and starting up the arm. "High ground," he shouted, trusting that Dreaming Blue would either follow, or would pursue a strategy that she thought better. The sound of foot falls behind him suggested the former.

Pistols held ahead of him he fired, concentrating the bursts of plasma on the elbow section of the arm. The mix of metal with the strange wood the ship was constructed of made him doubtful that he might do serious damage to the limb (which was fortunate as he was currently climbing it) but his plan was that he might fuse the metal of the joint, reducing the creature's range of movement.

The heat from the glowing metal burned his feet through his shoes as he passed the elbow, and fused or not, the creature did not bend the arm, but it was lifting it at the shoulder.

"Take the head," he called back to Dreaming Blue, and then, midway up the forearm, he leapt from arm to the chest. Wood and steel formed a rib cage of sorts, but with no covering Heron slipped within the ship. Feet jammed against a rib to hold himself up, he reloaded both his pistols in only seconds, at the same time looking about the interior cavity.

Lots of things that might be organ analogues, but for all he knew it was just cargo that hung in the space. No obviously pumping heart, or the bellow like actions of lungs to give him a target. He put one of his pistols between his teeth, the metal warm in his mouth, his now free hand grabbing a handhold of a wooden rib.

He bent his knees, pulled himself close against the wood and steel, and then, with a flare of essence, launched himself out into the space within.

Caste mark glowing on his head, grabbing the pistol from between his teeth, spinning as he flew, Heron started firing. Arms spread wide, he used the recoil from the plasma to speed up his spin as well as propel his leap. Three times he reloaded in the air, and when he finally lighted upon one of the ribs on the opposite side he had started Heron was surrounded by a bonfire of sunlight. He lit the creature from within, making it glow like the sunrise.

He heard a scream from above, the same screech of wood on wood from earlier, but midway through the pitch changed as the volume was choked off.

After dismissing his pistols he Slipped through the ribs and exited the creature. Leaping from rib to rib he rapidly began to climb. The arm he had fused was swinging around wildly, but the other arm came around, slamming into its chest, about ten feet below where Heron climbed. He nearly lost his hold, and slid a few feet down the side.

He resumed his climb, interrupted several times as the creature tried, furtively, to beat out the fire within it.

When he pulled himself up onto the shoulders he saw Dreaming Blue, slashing and hacking at the head, even as she tried to avoid the snapping of vast wood and steel jaws. One of the glowing eyes had been put out, and as Heron watched he saw her slice one of the jagged, wooden teeth from the steel lined jaw.

He summoned the pistols back into his hands as he dashed across the shoulder, shifting his balance to maintain a straight run across the heaving surface.

Crossing behind Dreaming Blue he fired around her, right into the open mouth.

Flames exploded within, and then, as it screamed, flames erupted from it, as it vomitied an inferno.

Both Heron and Dreaming Blue had to retreat from the head to avoid the flames.

"You are not helping!" she said from where she clung on the shoulder blade of the giant, her daiklaive driven point first into the wood of the shoulder to give her a solid hold. Once neat and styled hair was now a tangled mess, and her kimono was torn in several places.

"Sorry, who would have thought."

Above him the fused arm came swinging up and down. It might not be able to bend its elbow, but it could slam its upper arm into the side of its head and the shoulder.

Heron was forced off the shoulder ridge, dropping down onto its back, giving up his pistols as he did so. He saw Dreaming Blue yank her weapon from the wood and stumble run across the shoulder to once more resume her assault on the head.

He drew his beamklaive, igniting the essence blade. Using the weapon he slashed deep gouges into the back of the monster, using them as footholds to climb his way back up. When he had positioned himself directly behind its head Heron steadied himself with his feet and used both hands to drive the sunlight blade through the back of the neck.

Whether it was that attack, or Dreaming Blue's actions, or even the fires he had left behind in its chest, the creature let out a cry and began to stumble forward.

"I think we had better get off," Dreaming Blue said, leaning around the head, offering a hand to Heron.

Heron grabbed it, let her pull him up onto the shoulder. Most of the head's jaw had been sliced away, and both eyes were put out. The lurching stride of the thing made it hard to maintain his balance.

"When it hits the edge of the valley it is going to go down hard," Dreaming Blue told him.

"Best we get off then," Heron said, looking about. The arm he had fused was hanging motionless from the creature's shoulder. "That way," he said, crossing the uncertain footing of the shoulder until his stood at the base of the arm. He reached out towards Dreaming Blue. "Hold on,"

She took his arm.

Heron jumped, pulling her off with him. He drove his beamklaive into the arm, the blade cutting a long slash down the appendage, slowing the fall. He almost lost his hold when then reached the elbow, the fused metal was harder for the blade to cut through, the sudden braking effect almost pulled his arm from the shoulder socket, and almost caused the blade to turn free of the metal.

Then they were past it, sliding the rest of the way down, to the hand.

Dreaming Blue caught hold of the fingers, stopping herself, and then Heron, catching and holding him before he might fall.

"As soon as it hits," she called.

"Agreed," Heron answered.

It was not long after that the lower legs ploughed into the rim of the valley, snapping and breaking, causing the huge form to pitch forward. The arm was trailing low to the valley walls when the Solar and the Sidereal leapt and ran from it.

The creatures weight drove it forward and down, the legs shattering with the stress. The chest area crashed into rock, and weakened by fire, broke and snapped. The heavy thing was crushed under its own weight, once it had lost much of its structural integrity.

From a safe perch Heron and Dreaming Blue watched it collapse and burn.

"I can see why you would be wary of bringing such a thing into your strong hold," she said to Heron.

"It certainly could have been a problem," he agreed. "I am certain Ivory would have made a mess destroying it."

Dreaming Blue leaned back against a boulder and laughed without humour. "So between the two you think Ivory is the most destructive."

Heron frowned. "Don't try to put words into my mouth."

She shook her head. "Perish the thought. Do you think there are more of those things in Malfeas?"

"Possibly." He extinguished his sword. "A problem to deal with when it arises."

"That easy?"

"Pardon."

"You say it like it will be easy."

"I never said easy, but the two of us handled that thing pretty well," Heron told her. "If more come, the Exalts will destroy them." He paused for a moment and turned his gaze on her. "Assuming we can work together."

She had the decency to at least pretend some embarrassment and looked away first.

Heron took a few steps onto a higher rock and looked at the rocky wall of the valley. "We can make our way up," he said, pointing at a rough path. "We will check to make sure that thing is truly destroyed and then I have things to do."

"What? Will you return to your stronghold?"

"Not yet. There is a unpleasant man with a great deal of money I need to visit."

"To make sure he is an unpleasant man with a great deal less of money."

Heron started up the path, looked back at Dreaming Blue and smiled. "Something like that. If you want to come with me I will need you to take on a role, if you think you can do it."

Dreaming Blue laughed, a true laugh. "There is much you have yet to learn Solar."

* * *

><p><strong>Replies to Reviews<strong>

N3phtys - I will make the change to the chapter enumeration you requested for this story and keep it in mind for the future.

As for Lightning and Courtesan, I suppose we will see.

Thanks for taking the time to write

* * *

><p><strong>Music Suggestions<strong>

Short Skirt / Long Jacket Cake - Dreaming Blue


	4. Salvaging the First Age

Salvaging the First Age

He could not be more than sixteen, even asleep he had that awkwardness about him. The helmet, too big for him, was canted forward over his eyes. The spear was clutched loosely to chest, held up in the crook of his arm. Carefully Sparrow reached out and shifted the weapon, so it would not fall, then she stepped around the napping 'watchman' and into the storehouse.

Likely they never knew what they really had, she thought, moving things on shelves so she could see the metal wall behind. And even if they once had, probably it had been forgotten over the centuries. It was just a strange building with tilted floors that the people had repurposed to something useful to their time.

She checked the hatches, the ones that had been closed since, well, who knew how long, found them locked. That was good. That suggested no one had been in any place important.

Leaving the storehouse and its napping guardian behind she walked along the well travelled path towards the village. It was fairly large, more of a small town, a number of large buildings along the main street. People noted her, for it was not so large that strangers would go unnoticed, but they were more curious than alarmed.

At the end of the street was a temple, a large building, exterior decorations suggesting it was dedicated to the Five Dragons, but Sparrow had seen such places before. Likely inside one could find a way to offer prayers to any god.

She was not interested in the temple, but a building beside it. Not quite as large as the temple, but the stone construction and tiled roof suggested that as much money had gone into the construction of village hall as the temple.

A sentry, not asleep, moved in front of the doors as she approached. "Do you have business here lass?"

Stopping a few steps away from the man she answered, "I wish to speak to the headman, or woman." She hoped the village was not run by a council, that would make her work that much more difficult.

He looked at her for a moment. "You will have to talk to the clerk to see if you can talk to the headwoman. And hand over your sword before you go in."

She nodded and released her sword belt, holding it, the sheathed sword, towards the guard.

He took the weapon from her. "You can retrieve it on your way out."

"Thanks."

Inside the building showed the same care and detail of construction as the exterior. The foyer stretched up above her, skylights letting in the sun. It took her twenty paces to cross the polished stone floor, to stand in-front of the imposing desk where a man, she assumed the clerk, sat.

He was in his middle years, well dressed, bald, with a neatly trimmed beard. He had watched her approached and asked in a friendly tone, "Welcome. Can I help you today?"

"Yes. I wish to speak to your headwoman." Sparrow worked some essence into her words, using charms that Heron had taught her, wanting to quickly get what she wanted.

For a moment the man looked confused, but after a moment he answered, "Why, what is your business with her?"

"It is for her and the town's benefit." A little more essence was woven into her words.

"Well, let me show you to her office then." He was smiling broadly, apparently not considering the oddity of Sparrow's request.

"Thank you."

He took her up the stairs to the second floor, then down a short hallway to a thick, oak door. He knocked at it and then pushed it open.

The office behind it was large, carpet on the floor, a desk, even more impressive than the one below, took up most of the room. The woman seated behind looked to be tall, and solid, but it was hard to tell when she was sitting. Her long hair was nearly steel grey, and her face was marked with fine wrinkles. She looked up from the ledger she was working on when the door opened, eyes narrowing.

"What is it Clain?"

"You have a visitor, it is important."

"I was not aware of any appointments today," she said, the tone of her voice cool.

Sparrow crossed the room, took a pouch from her jacket, and then placed it on the desk. The contents made a metal on metal ringing sound. "I am sure you can make some time for me." She pulled the string that held the pouch closed so it opened up, revealing the jade and silver within. Currency had a magic of its own.

"Thank you Clain, you may go now."

"Yes ma'am."

The door closed behind her.

The headwoman looked at the money pouch for a moment, then back to Sparrow. "Please sit," she paused, "Miss?"

"Sparrow Hawk," Sparrow said as she took a seat, "no Miss." She was impressed that the woman had not yet reached for the fortune on her desk.

"Sparrow Hawk." She nodded. "I am Headwoman Quinn. Forgive me for ignoring pleasantries, but just what is this money for?"

"There is a storehouse just outside of the town, metal walls, mostly underground."

"Yes."

"I want to buy it. Just the structure. You can keep the contents, though I will have to ask that they all be moved out."

Quinn said nothing, her gaze resting on the pile of jade that sat between them. "A generous offer."

"I believe so," Sparrow said as she once more wove essence into her words. "The jade on your desk would build and stock at least six storehouses of equal size."

Quinn looked at it, nodded. "That is true."

"So what I am offering is more than fair."

"Yes," she said, falling into the spell of Sparrow's words.

"Do we have an agreement?"

Quinn nodded, and got to her feet, confirming Sparrow's earlier estimation of her size. She held out her hand. Sparrow got to her feet, looking up at Quinn, and took her hand. "The deal is done," Quinn said, giving Sparrow's hand a quick shake.

"I'll need everything moved out of the storehouse in the next two hours."

"Of course," Quinn said. She scooped the jade and silver all back into the pouch and tied it shut again. Holding it tightly she started from her office.

Smiling, Sparrow followed after her.

* * *

><p>Headwoman Quinn had a lot of respect in the town. There were questions, but she put them off, telling any who asked that it was for the town's benefit. Her words seemed to put people at ease.<p>

Within the two hours that Sparrow had requested a large number of men and woman had loaded up carts, and had transferred everything from the storehouse to the village hall.

When the last of the items were pulled from the structure Quinn looked at Sparrow. "So what are you going to do with it?"

"It is a little complicated to explain," Sparrow told her as she took a silver case from her jacket. It was about the size of her hand, thick as two fingers. "If you can ask everyone to move about a hundred feet back you will see."

"Everyone, back off towards the trees," Quinn called.

As the people moved back Sparrow opened the case, the two halves folding open along a hinge. Within were several glass tubes, each about the size of a cigarette. She took one out, both end were capped in white jade, and a single wire of orichalcium want from end to end along the glass.

Sparrow dropped the tube to the ground and then crushed it under her foot. The glass broke with a musical sound.

For a few seconds nothing happened, then the ground beneath sparrow shifted, humped up, like a wave flowing away form her. A few feet in front of her the ground humped up again, growing taller, earth and grass sloughing off stone like water. A human like figure slid from the earth, easily three times Sparrow height. From the distance shouts of alarm came from the watchers, and Sparrow heard the sounds of some running away.

The earth elemental looked around, the boulder like head making a grinding sound as it moved. Then it turned an eyeless gaze onto Sparrow. "What would you have me do?" the elemental asked.

"There is a vehicle buried here. Unearth it, and then I need a deep basement built, about twice your height in depth, lined and buttressed with stone, with a set of wide stairs."

"You ask for much."

"Would you speak with the Golden Eyed sorceress about my request?"

The elemental was silent for several heartbeats. "I shall do as you ask," it said.

It slid back into the earth and the ground stilled for a time, long enough for some of those gathered about to take a few steps closer, curiosity winning out when danger seemed to have passed.

Then the store house shook, and the ground around it rippled. There was at least one cry of fear, and again the sound of people running.

Sparrow watched as large rocks were pushed up from the ground, boulders that had likely kept anyone from trying to excavate the storehouse. She wondered how they had come there, and knew she would probably never know. The rocks were pushed off to the side, and then the ground humped up as dirt shook free of a piece of metal that erupted from the ground. The rest of the airship's hull followed; one of the wings sliding out of the ground; a smashed engine, possibly the cause of the its crash long ago, coming into view.

The hull shifted to the side as the elemental brought it to the level before sliding it free of the hole. The ground rippled under the airship as it was moved away from the hole it had lain in, and it was set down carefully.

It was a large craft, easily three times the size of her Razor, with stubby wings that were mostly large engine. A cargo ship, perhaps fast in straight lines, but not something designed for agility.

Other than the damage to the port engine the aircraft was in amazingly good shape. Centuries buried in the earth had not been enough to corrode the metal of the craft, or even damage the red paint that covered it. She hoped that Ivory might make repairs to it, for a heavy cargo hauler would be useful.

"You knew that was there," Quinn said, her tone raised and her anger obvious. She stood close, was breathing hard.

Sparrow had expected the woman to say something like that, but had assumed the earth elemental, currently shaping the basement she had asked for, would make Quinn keep her distance.

Not so it seemed.

"I did," she said told her, turning away from the ship to face the head woman. "However you did not, and the deal we made was good for you."

"That thing is worth a fortune."

"It is," Sparrow nodded. "Valuable enough that someone might burn down your entire town to take it."

Quinn took a step back.

"There are people in Creation who would take this from you and give you nothing but ashes. For you it was a curious building that you made use of. Its current value is only because of my knowledge and the elemental I called." Sparrow took a step closer to Quinn, was not particularly happy to see her take two frightened steps back. "Don't focus on the loss of a might have been, but instead what you are getting, and not losing."

Quinn looked between Sparrow and the airship. Sparrow guessed her thoughts were to attack once the elemental had left, to take the airship. But of course her next thoughts would be what to do with it, who they might sell it to that would not simply take it. A narrowing of her eyes, perhaps she was thinking that she might force Sparrow to pay more for it were Sparrow a prisoner.

Deciding to make a point Sparrow removed the silver case from her jacket again, opened it, removed a glass tube capped in red jade.

Quinn looked at the tube, at Sparrow, at the airship. She frowned, then spat onto the ground, drew the toe of her shoe across the ground and spittle. "Never come to my town again."

With that the head woman turned and stomped away.

It would have been a more impressive action if not for the jingling sound of the jade Sparrow had given her.

Satisfied that Quinn, unhappy as she might be, was not going to cause any problems, Sparrow walked over the edge of the hole the elemental was digging. It had almost finished, and was working on the stairs.

A few people had moved closer, the braver stepping close to the edge to look down.

"You should probably get this covered up before someone falls in," Sparrow called out.

Below the elemental finished up the work, the stone flowing like mud in its hands, but once shaped, as solid as any other rock. It moved to the middle of the basement, looked about, then slid down through the rock of the floor, disappearing. A moment later it surfaced through the ground close to where Sparrow stood.

"Are you satisfied?" it asked her.

"The work is excellent, thank you. Your service is complete," Sparrow said politely.

The elemental said nothing, just slid down through into the earth, gone as suddenly as it appeared.

From the silver case she took one, then a second glass vial, both of these capped in blue jade. She was going to need at least two air elementals to lift the craft and move it back to the tree.

* * *

><p>Once it has been a mighty airship, with a keel over a hundred feet long. The ancient crash had snapped the ship in two, tearing it apart, leaving the wreckage scattered over a vast ice field.<p>

It likely would have been picked even cleaner than it had been, if not for the Wyld mutants who claimed the land and the wreckage as their own. They were in the shape of wolves, shoulders that would come up as high as a man's chest. White, jagged fur that looked like ice, but was in fact metal, as were the teeth in their muzzles.

The beast were intelligent as well, they claimed the area, hunted it, laid in wait for the scavengers who might come there. Deadly ambush hunters who hid their numbers and actually moved the wreckage into troves near the centre of their range so as to better lure meals close.

Sparrow had seen them at a distance once before, flying the area at the border of their hunting range. Now she had to opportunity to see them up close, and they were terrifying as they were beautiful.

One of the three she was fighting jumped at her. Sparrow lifted her leg, drove her foot out, catching it hard in the shoulder, knocking it off corse. The metal of its fur pierced the leather of her boot, but failed to damage her skin.

Turning, she brought her daiklaive up, thrusting it out, hand on hilt and another across the blade, driving it into the mouth of another of the wolves. Her case mark flared and with a twist of the blade, using it like a lever, she flipped the wolf over onto its back.

The third came in low, trying to snap at her ankles, but she slashed down with her sword, turning the blade and bashing it on the nose. With a yipe of pain it jumped back.

She could likely kill them if she wanted to, but she really did not want to. It would take a lot of time to properly salvage the area, and until it was all clear, she did not want anyone else coming in and taking the materials. Therefore the wolves had to stay.

A growling sound was her only warning that more of the wolves had come and then there were four more of the beasts attacking her.

Her sword swept around and across the shoulder of one, orichalcium blade and steel fur chiming like musical notes. Another of the wolves leapt at her, up high and descending rapidly. She reversed her sword, drove the point into the ground, grasped the quillons and leaned back. The wolf came down hard on the pommel and fell twisting to the ground, the air driven from its lungs.

With a step and a pull she yanked the sword from the hard ground: it had been driven nearly a handspan deeper by the impact. Still holding it by the quillons Sparrow spun the sword around her, driving the wolves back a few steps as her hands shifted about t0 grasp it about the hilt again.

She ended the maneuver with point of sword taking the eye from the largest wolf. A dangerous wound for a predator, one that might lead to it starving to death. Of the seven wolves, only one had not been injured, and that one did not seem as if it would test her.

The wolf that had fallen at her feet after its unsuccessful leap was slowing getting to its feet, panting in a pained manner. Sparrow kicked it hard in the side, knocking it over. "Get out of here!" she yelled.

The wolves fled, as best as they were able.

She waited a time, then laid her sword aside, took a seat on a rock, and searched the pockets of her tattered buff jacket for her cigarettes. The fur of the beasts certainly had made a mess of her clothing she noted, pulling at the shredded leather that had once been a sleeve.

"Be a cold night if I were to stay out here," she said to herself as she lit a cigarette. She had been there long enough to smoke about half when, with a clicking sound of gears, a clockwork bird landed near her. It hopped over to her, each hop accompanied by a soft twang of springs. When it stood neat her hand it spread its wings, its breast splitting open to reveal a writing set and a rolled piece of paper.

Sparrow took the paper out, read the message, then retrieved the writing kit and used it compose a reply. Note and kit went back into the bird. It folded its wings to its sides, its chest closing up. It took a few hops back, then jumped into the air and flew off.

She watched it fly off over the ground, back towards where her people were working a salvage heap. She stood, dropped her cigarette to the ground and crushed it out. Time for her to be getting back.

Sparrow had not been walking long when she heard the howl go up. It sounded close, and was soon joined by others. She looked about the area around her, decided it would suit her needs, and drew her sword. Her caste mark still glowed, but when the first wolf stepped over a raise the mark lit up and golden flames began to dance around her.

More wolves joined that one, a few were the ones she had fought earlier, but most of them were fresh. She counted ten as they move around to surround her, keeping their distance, but not closing.

"Don't think distance will protect you," she said. Stepping forward Sparrow slashed down with her blade. Light from her anima gathered along the edge and then launched out as if Sparrow had hurled her blade. The gleaming arc of energy hit the largest of the wolves before it even knew it was danger. It cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Sparrow did not know if it would survive, and at the moment was not concerned. If she had to kill a few to teach them to leave her alone, so be it.

Turning in place she met the gaze of the surrounding wolves. All of them backed a few steps away.

"I think we have an understanding," she said.

The wolves retreated a few more steps.

There was a deeper growling sound, it seemed to echo in the area. The wolves withdrew further as an even larger specimen stepped around a large rock formation. It was as tall as a man at the shoulder, long, bulky, its metal fur sticking out like knives. It kept its head low, fangs bared, as it stalked towards Sparrow.

"Leader of the wolves," Sparrow said, looking between the alpha and the others. She would have to finish it quickly.

Walking towards the big wolf, sword held out to the side, she matched its stance and pace as best she could. The big wolf seemed to hesitate. Sparrow charged it, her anima burning even brighter.

The wolf gathered its legs beneath it and it pushed off, like a bolt from a crossbow, flying right at her. Sparrow lifted her sword, hand on hilt, other laid against blade, and drove it up agains the beast, muscles, strengthened by essence, drove the wolf up and then with a twist, to her side and down.

It hit the ground hard, on its back, but flipped over, snarling crouched low.

Sparrow hit it hard, using sword as a lever to flip it over onto its back again. She went with it, landing on top of it, its sharp fur cutting her. Swinging her sword around she placed the flat against the wolf's throat and pushed down on it.

The wolf went crazy as it tried to flip her off, to get free. She felt the fur cut at her, and the claws on its right forepaw caught her across the chin, cutting deeply.

Snarling Sparrow pushed even harder on the blade, and the struggles grew weaker as she stole its air. She watched eyes grow wide and frightened as it realized it was about to die.

Sparrow smiled, her blood dripping down onto the terrified beast.

She liked the feeling far too much.

Then she rolled off the animal, heard it draw in a gasping, painful breath. She put her foot down on its throat, not so hard as to cut off its breathing, but the threat was there. Looking down she and the wolf came to an agreement.

When she took her foot off it remained on its back for several seconds, then, once Sparrow nodded, it rolled over onto its belly and crawled back, eyes not leaving hers.

"Keep my pack safe," she told it, "and don't touch any prey that has my scent on it."

The wolf remained on the ground, but she saw understanding in its eyes.

Sparrow turned her back on it and walked away, not worried about it for the moment. Perhaps later it might try to challenge her again, but for the moment it was submissive to her.

The other wolves stepped out of her way, respectfully, fearfully. She ignored them.

None followed.

* * *

><p>A piece of the wreck's keel, a section nearly twenty feet long, had been cut free. It was covered in cargo webbing, long straps connecting it to the Blade's hull. Sparrow was satisfied with the quality of the work after walking the length of the metal, making sure everything had been made fast.<p>

Her wounds had stopped bleeding, but her clothing was still a mess, and covered in drying blood. The crew looked nervous, clustering close to the Blade, looking around as if expecting whatever Sparrow had fought with to come charging in.

After giving one last pull at a cargo strap she turned towards the crew. "Alright, get on board, we are leaving.

The relief was nearly palpable as the men quickly climbed into the Blade.

"Are you alright Captain?" Berlan asked her. He was a young man, skinny, short, he had short, spiky black hair, skin the colour of polished oak. The mechanical bird perched on his shoulder.

"I am well Mr. Berlan, but thank you for asking."

He looked towards the Blade. "Sorry about that Captain, they were all pretty scared."

Sparrow smiled. "I suppose that is so. Any problems other than nerves?" She started walking towards the Blade, following one of the cargo straps.

"Pin nearly cut off Windon's hand when they were working at the keel. Windon's got a bad burn, but think he'll be okay."

"Tell Bosun Jinn when you get back to the Blue Sky Lover. Can't have Pin being stupid, even if he is afraid."

"Yes Captain."

* * *

><p>An hour later the Blade had lowered its payload of feather steel onto the deck of the Blue Sky Lover, Berlan and the rest of the crew transferring to the other ship. Sparrow ordered them back to the Ice Tree while she took the Blade further north.<p>

* * *

><p>If she was not on the border marches then she was close to them. The ice and snow were twisted with the Wyld energies, and had been sculpted into the form of a forest, and while none of the creatures of ice lived, Sparrow was certain some of them moved from time to time.<p>

Not at all a safe place she supposed, and likely when the moon was full the Wyld spilled forth into the forest and provided the alchemy of life, for a time. It was the place hobgobblins might prowl, and where the Fair Folk might hunt. She was not afraid, but wary, ready. It was why she walked and had not simply flown the Blade in.

Her thick boots crunched down on delicate ice, and her fur cloak was covered in a fine rime of frost. She might have been cold, but the clasp of her cloak was an artifact in the form of a stylized flame made of gold with a core of orichalcium. Infusing it with a tiny portion of her essence kept her warm and removed the icy bite of the wind. It was just one of the many items that had been discovered during the search and cleansing of the Ice Tree.

The ground rose, and the grade became steeper. She freed a pair of ice axes from where they had been bundled on her pack and used them to help in the assent.

The summit of the hill was a wide ridge above a jagged valley of ice. She walked to the edge and looked down, searching for what she had some to see. The floor of the valley was covered in the forest of ice and snow as well, and from high above Sparrow marvelled at how transparent they were.

Below the ice, a dark shape, was what had brought Sparrow there, and when she saw it she laughed. It was huge, taking up nearly the entire length of the valley. So large she had nearly missed for its size.

Sparrow took off her gloves and reached into her jacket, removing a sheet of paper. It was covered in a messy writing, with surprisingly detailed sketches in the margins. Wyld Fire Interdiction class Strike Cruiser, standard operating force, one thousand ground troops, one royal warstrider fang, one standard warstrider fang. The craft below her did not even have a name, just a number, Solar Deliberative SC 27.

"How many of the things did they have that they could not properly name them? How many that they could simply store them in case they were needed?"

The information on the paper, data that Ivory had recovered from the Ice Tree's libraries, had seemed impressive enough, but now seeing it, even just a blurry image through a sheet of ice, tens of feet thick, amazed her.

She folded the paper up, put it back in her jacket. How was she going to salvage something like that? She would have to secure the area, she would need a small army for that, and then the recovery process would take even more people. She supposed Ivory might supply elementals to break the ice. But had the hull even held up to the centuries upon centuries of time and the weight of the ice. Would they clear it to only find wreckage (valuable wreckage certainly)? Was it even possible they would find an extant ship?

Sparrow wanted that ship, she wanted SDSC27. If the numbers Ivory had given her were correct it would one of the more powerful aircraft in their age. It would give her the ability to project force far and wide, securing the Ice Tree from the majority of threats. And when they abandoned the Ice tree for the fleet of the air, it would be a flagship.

Not today, however, she thought as she pulled her gloves back on. It would take months of planning before she could return, and more recourses than she currently commanded.

That was something she would need to work on.

She turned her back on the valley and the treasure it held, satisfied that ice and distance and the Wyld would protect the ship as it always had. It would wait.


	5. Girls and their Dolls

Girls and their Dolls

* * *

><p>The Ice Tree was nearly two thousand feet tall, with spars extending straight out from the central shaft, like the branches of a tree. At the end of each spar was a cradle, some sized that they might have held a small, single person aircraft; others were large enough that that might hold a much larger ship, and were supported by multiple spars.<p>

Several of the cradles were occupied, air boats of Halsanti design, three of the large, class 1 boats only days away from completion. There were also ships from the first age resting in some of those cradles, most simply wrecks to be broken down for parts, but a few nearly extant and being repaired.

Along the central shaft, at different places, where half hemispheres, like soap bubbles. They were for observation, providing a place to over see the work on the ships. In an observation deck about three quarters up the shaft Ivory was meeting with the heads of the construction teams.

Her hair had been returned to its red colour, thought it was still short, and she wore it pulled into little girl bunches on either side of her head. She wore a white, fur trimmed coat, a pale band of pink around the hem. Thick, white wool stockings were itchy, but kept her warm as the observation deck was open to the outside. She was, from the white ribbons in her hair to the polished, patent leather ankle boots, the picture of a proper little girl.

Darken Gray worked hard to make it so.

Ivory looked at the notes and diagrams on the large central table, shifting onto her toes to snag one of the larger diagrams and pull it towards her.

"Why didn't you use the bracing I told you to?" she asked.

The yard's manager, a man named Tar, shook his head, while the other men and women there looked less than respectful. They knew she was a genius, that she could fix anything, and yet they still saw her as, well, a child.

"Those braces were not as strong as the standard ones. They looked pretty, I'll admit, but were weak."

Looked pretty, Ivory thought. Did they actually think that she had chosen a design because it was pretty? She was about to tell them exactly what they could do with their standard braces when she heard it. Not a word of warning, or a cough as if clearing a throat, but shoe leather, gently scraping against the floor.

Enough of a sound to remind her that it was not just her and the construction heads. She did not look towards Darken Gray, her governess, but kept her eyes on the diagram as she took a moment to calm herself.

Still angry, still annoyed, but not showing it, she moved along the table, until she found a blank sheet of paper. The construction heads watched her with what Ivory thought of as somewhat strained patience, and that made her feel even more annoyed.

Grabbing a brush and some ink she looked up at Tar. "This," she said, and the brush swept across the page, leaving behind neat and elegant writing in its wake, "is a prayer to Vanileth, Shogun of Artificial Flight." She punctuated a phrase with more force than required, a messy bit of writing that she knew she would hear about later. She continued to write. "A prayer that was sung daily in Vanileth's temple in the City of Meru."

She put the brush aside and spun the page around so that the men and women could see the Old Realm characters on the page, thought most would not be able to read them. Still, they gathered closer, obviously curious.

"It is an important prayer," she told them, then reached for the digram she had drawn of the brace. "Do you notice that the," she resisted saying pretty, "design shares a similar look to the first characters in the prayer?"

They looked at it, and Tar was the first to say. "I'll be damned."

"The wind passing through that brace, while the ship is in flight, is a prayer to Vanileth."

She could see that they all began to realize what that meant, they began to nod amongst themselves.

"The over all effect is that the brace is twenty percent stronger than the standard ones."

"So why not use that for all the braces?" a woman named Peela asked.

"It is only stronger when the airship is in motion. So 1 in 4 is the best."

Tar looked over the diagrams. "Too late to go back and change it now, but going forward we'll do so." He looked at Ivory. "You could have told us this sooner."

I will kill him, Ivory thought, but she only nodded. "I will make sure to do so next time."

"Excuse me Mr. Tar," Darken Gray said, stepping forward, "I hate to interrupt you, but Ivory's schedule is busy."

"Of course Miss Gray," he said, in tones more respectful than those which he had addressed Ivory.

"Thank you." She held a hand out to Ivory. "Come along Ivory," she said.

Ivory looked over the work on the table, decided that things were progressing well enough, and there was nothing more for her to say. She took the hand and let Darken Gray lead her from the room.

"I am going to summon demons to kill them all," she said softly.

"Yes, you could," Darken Gray said, "but then I would have to write your mother a rather long letter about your murderous behaviour, and of course punish you."

Ivory said nothing for a few seconds. "Why should I have to 'splain anything to them? They should just do what I say."

"You are still a young girl Ivory. That is something time will take care of, you can be certain."

That, Ivory thought, was surprisingly painful. She would have thought it would have grown less so, but each time she heard someone say that, well, it still hurt. She could almost think that Darken Gray was aware of it.

"It will take forever if I have to keep tellin' them why I want them to do somethin'."

"Hardly forever, please watch the hyperbole, it is not proper. And you shall rewrite that prayer this evening twenty times, and I want each one to be perfect. You shall present them as wall scrolls to Mr. Tar and the rest. Make sure you punctuate it properly."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"Then you should have known better than to let anger spoil your writing." She stopped in front of a set of lift doors, let go of Ivory's hand and pressed the call button. "Do you wish to spend the next hour in your workshop or shall you have a riding lesson?"

"I'll go to my workshop, thank you," Ivory said.

"Very well, then I will want a full report on your work on the construct. Afterwards will be deportment lessons."

"Yes Miss Gray," Ivory said.

The lift doors opened. There were several workers within. They were polite to Darken Gray, friendly towards Ivory, like she was a mascot. Quite annoying really, but an angry outburst would only make her look even more the child.

She had so much preferred it when it had only been her, Heron and Hu.

Darken Gray left her alone in her work shop. Ivory took off her coat, hung it on a small stand by the door. Under the coat she wore a white, one piece dress that fell to her knees. Like the coat there was a pale band of pink around the hem.

Pink, Darken Gray told her, was a pastel shade of red, the colour of war, and therefore a suitable accent colour.

Those were among the many things that her Governess saw fit that she learn,

But now, by herself, in her workroom, she cold focus on what she wanted to learn.

"Hu," she greeted the tiger, who appeared as he often did from apparently nowhere, "will you eat Darken Gray for me? Pleeeease?"

"No," the tiger said, good-naturedly enough.

"But don't you think she looks tasty?" Ivory asked as she climbed up on a step stool and reached up on a shelf for a battered set of ledgers. They overbalanced her slightly and she would have fallen back, had Hu not butted her in the small of her back with his head.

"I prefer ruminants to gods," the tiger told her.

"Have you ever eaten a god?" Ivory jumped down from the stool, her arms full of the dusty ledgers.

"Not that I would comment on."

"I wonder what gods taste like?" Ivory mused as she put the ledgers on a work table, sized lower for her. "Would the god of candy taste better than the god of cabbage?"

"That is not a line of inquiry you will want to follow if you ever want to be invited to dine with a god."

"Fair point," Ivory said, and began looking through the books.

The ledgers were old, going to dust, what little paper remained intact had faded, almost invisible ink on it. Ivory reached for stacks of paper and ink. Her caste mark glowed on her forehead as she repaired the damage, in minutes each of the ledgers was like new, white paper, dark, unfaded ink.

With them repaired she began to look through them, reading quickly, looking for information that Sparrow might use. The Ice Tree had been a central maintenance hub for the region in the first age, and often in the records she would find entries about wrecks that needed to be recovered, or ships being returned to holding sites. Unfortunately the ledgers she had put to rights held no such information and she pushed them aside after a time.

She leaned back in the chair, looking back at Hu. "I wanna go and do something. I wanna leave this place."

"Who is holding you here?" the Tiger asked.

"My mother mostly, but you'd think that Heron or Sparrow could take me with them."

Hu did not give her an answer.

Ivory sighed loudly and slipped from her chair. With an exaggerated motion she stomped to where the construct lay on another workbench. She had repaired the damage that the Mask of Winters had caused, as well as the damage that releasing the gates had caused. She had even made some improvements, but it still would not activate. It annoyed Ivory almost as much as the fact that Darken Gray had told her once she fixed it that the construct must be returned to Lookshy.

She climbed onto another footstool and as she looked down at the armiger. She gasped softly, for within the chest chamber was a mouse. The mouse looked up at her, squeaked, then jumped out of the armiger, off the table, and ran off to disappear behind some crates.

"What is it?" Hu asked.

"A mouse," Ivory told him. "It was inside the construct, chewing on things probably."

Not that a mouse could damage it even from the inside. Then she saw what she thought were scratches on the heart core, as she had taken to thinking of it. She reached down, brushed at them, realized it was just a little dirt, probably left behind by the mouse's claws.

It almost looked as if it had been trying to scratch one of octagonal plugs that covered the core. She ran a finger over the smooth metal, marvelling at he seam between plug and rest of the core. So close was it that it was almost as if it did not exist.

Maybe the mouse had had the right idea. The thought made her laugh, but she reached for her tools, searched out her eye glass, fitted it over her right eye. As the clockworks spun, bringing lenses around, she sought out another tool, a small bonder.

With the glass giving her the enhanced perception she needed Ivory used the bonder to create a join between one of the hexagonal plugs and a piece of orichalcium wire.

"What are you doing?" Hu asked her.

Ivory took the glass away from her eye, looked at the work. "I think that the core shut down, to keep it from overloadin'. The plugs are control rods. If I draw one out, the essence reaction might begin. It might also blow up, but probably not."

"Probably not?"

"Probably not."

Hu took a few steps back.

She climbed up onto the table, wrapped the wire around a steel rod and then, straddling the construct, began to pull up on the plug. It slid out of the core, slowly, Ivory gently working it free. The plug was perhaps the thickness of one or two coins out of the core when all the plugs snapped out the same distance with a soft 'click'.

The construct opened it eyes.

"Oh," it said.

Then all the plugs slid back into the core, so each was barely raised from the surface.

"You're working," Ivory said happily.

It looked up at her. "The Mask of Winters was defeated?"

Ivory nodded, smiling.

"This is uncomfortable. Can you please close my chest."

"Yes, sure," Ivory told her. "Let me remove the wire first," she told the construct as she grabbed the tools. "And gotta smooth the bonding agent away too."

It took Ivory about a minute to clean up and then close up the armoured chest plates. "I made some 'provements," she said quickly as she locked the armour into place. She slid off the table. "Stand up."

The construct shifted about smoothly on the table, swinging off of it onto the floor. She stood still for a moment, then nodded. "All systems currently optimal or better."

Ivory nodded. "I know. It took my a while, I had to try a few things, cause it's not as if I had a manual to work with." She looked around the room, then over a Hu for a moment.

She looked back to the construct. "Listen," she said softly, "Darken Gray wants me to give you back, but that's stupid. I'm the one you got to be with. So when Darken Gray comes you got to tell her you want to stay with me."

The construct looked at Ivory. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Just tell her you want to stay with me," Ivory said again. "Wait here." She ran from the room to search out Darken Gray. Her next lesson was deportment, so Darken Gray should be in the room that had been set aside for those lessons.

The room was a level above, and on the other side of the Tree from where Ivory had started. She was breathing a little heavily when she reached it, having sprinted all the way.

"Miss Gray," she said loudly, opening the door.

Darken Gray was standing in front of a crystal writing slate, having covered it in neat, first realm characters. "Ivory, do not yell inside like that." She turned. "And why do you look like you ran here?"

"I need you to see it. The construct. I fixed it. Come on." Ivory came into the room, grasped Darken Gray's hand, began to pull on it. "Come on."

She looked down at Ivory, frowned, but allowed herself to be dragged along after the girl, looking somewhat displeased.

They were going too slow, Ivory wanted to show off her work, have the construct tell Darken Gray that it wanted to stay with Ivory.

Darken Gray would not be hurried however, and forced Ivory to walk at a sedate pace with a warning of, "In an emergency you might be allowed to rush, but otherwise present a facade of calm and control. It does not do to let people see you scurrying about."

Ivory shook her head at that, still trying to hurry the goddess.

Finally they reached the workshop. Ivory was relived to see the construct still standing there. "It is working, better than before."

Darken Gray looked the construct over. "I see that. You did very good work. Now, you..."

"The construct has something it wants to tell you!" Ivory was almost jumping up and down. "Tell her," she said, looking over at the Construct.

The construct looked towards Ivory, and then to Darken Gray.

"What is this about?" Darken Gray asked.

"I wish to stay with Ivory Peleps," the construct said. "However, if I am to truly express my desire I would wish to return to Lookshy..."

"What, no!" Ivory said.

"...and to Maheka Yoti's service."

"No!" Ivory said, stamping a foot.

"Ivory, we agreed that the construct would be returned to Lookshy."

Ivory looked between the construct and Darken Gray, angry at both. "No!"

"Ivory, this behaviour is inappropriate," Darken Gray told her, her tone hard. "The construct will be returned."

"No!" Ivory said. "You are not leaving," she ordered the construct as she dashed from the room.

"Ivory," Darken Gray called after her, but Ivory did not stop.

Down the hall she ran, until she reached the elevator. She hit the call button, tapping in a quick call pattern. A moment later the doors opened and Ivory jumped in, not wanting Darken Gray to catch up to her. She locked the elevator to her priority use and sent it descending.

She took several deep breaths. "I'm not giving it up," she said.

It took almost a minute for the elevator to reach the lowest levels, the doors opening on the stone caverns of the Ice Tree's foundation. They were dark and cold, but dry, and she shivered as she walked along the corridor, wishing she had thought to grab her coat.

There were two manses that powered the Ice Tree, one, an air manse, high atop the structure, and a second, an earth manse. Ivory had repaired them both soon after arriving; a job much easier than keeping the manse under Lookshy from destroying the city.

The earth manse was a fortress, and when Ivory sealed the doors she was certain she would be left alone. She made her way to the hearthstone room, which was warm, and lit by soft light. She sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

She heard the sound of soft pads on the floor and was not surprised. Even a fortress manse would have a hard time keeping Hu out.

The tiger slipped from the shadows and took a seat next to Ivory.

"I'm not giving it back," she said, not that she expected Hu would tell her otherwise. She leaned up against him.

He surprised her by saying, "You are being stupid."

Ivory did not say anything for several seconds, not sure she had heard him right. "What?"

"Being stupid is the only sin that a Twilight cannot be forgiven for, and you are being stupid."

"I'm not!" She pounded one of her small fists against Hu's side. "You're wrong."

"You are being stupid," he said, apparently not feeling the strike, or the ones that followed. "You are pointlessly antagonistic towards Darken Gray for a construct, one which you could build yourself if you chose."

Ivory stopped hitting Hu, thinking about what he had said. "I could, but, fat head Maheka Yoti does not deserve it and..."

"But what is really stupid is that you are undercutting the work of you allies," he said, interrupting her.

"What?"

"I should not have to tell you this," he said, sounding disappointed.

"Tell me what?" she demanded, and said nothing else, surprised by how whiny her voice sounded.

"You seek allies, and Lookshy might be a powerful one," he told her, his tone lecturing. "Right now those who do not wish to ally with you can bring up your theft. It is one more weapon you give an enemy that is not lacking in them."

Ivory shook her head.

"Returning it, you take that weapon from them, and allow Lookshy to claim part in the Mask of Winter's destruction. A claim that benefits them, but you and the others as well." He stood, turned, looked at her. "You are not quite as brilliant as you think Ivory Peleps."

Then he walked by her, slipping into the shadows, leaving her.

Ivory stared into the space that tiger had occupied. She gently bit at her lower lip for several seconds, then sniffed, wiped her hand across her eyes, and got to her feet.

She retraced her steps, walking slowly, but reaching the elevator faster than she wanted. She pressed the call button, not using the quick call pattern, but the elevator must have been waiting there for the doors opened immediately.

The ascent took a little longer than the descent, the doors opening a few times as workers got on and off between the floors. Ivory stepped out, close to her work room, and dragged her feet listlessly as she approached.

The Construct waited where it had been ordered to.

There was no sign of Darken Gray.

She did not speak to the construct, just walked to one of the worktables and gathered up some paper and ink. She took a brush, dipped it into the ink and then began to write. She used a charm that Darken Gray had insisted she learn, and while her brush moved quickly over the page, her writing was neat, as if she had spent time getting each character perfect.

She still spent several minutes on the letter, even with her brush moving so fast. She had been told that her writing should be perfect, a work of art that anyone might keep. She still had a long way to go before anyone would keep her writing as art, but she looked at the letter she was pleased enough with it.

No one would be able to fault her calligraphy.

The letter was, as much as it galled her, a letter of apology for taking the construct, while explaining her reasons. She made sure to highlight the constructs part in the ending of the Mask of Winters.

Leaving the ink on the letter to dry she looked through the notes she had, taking out several pages and, with only a moment's work, put them together into a book. She folder the letter up, put it between the pages of the newly bound book, and then fashioned a leather satchel in which to put them.

Her cask mark was glittering.

"Here," she said, holding the satchel out to the construct. "This is a letter to Maheka Yoti, and a manual on how you might be repaired, if anything were to happen."

The construct reached out and took it. "You wish me to return to Maheka Yoti?"

Ivory was silent for a few seconds, and, almost as if the words had to be dragged from her, said, "Yes. Go back to him. You can release all the jade limiters, and any one of the starmetal ones on your way back, but then you have to seal them again!"

The construct nodded. "I understand."

"If I need you," she said, then paused, "and if Yoti says you can go, release all the jade and starmetal limiters to reach my side."

"I understand."

Ivory nodded. "Take the elevator down to the atrium. You can exit the Ice Tree from there." She grabbed a map from a table and held it out. "You can get back on your own."

The construct took the map. "Yes." She turned and walked to the door, leaving the room, not looking back.

Ivory almost yelled, 'I am going to build a construct better than you', but held her tongue.

She turned and took a seat at her worktable, shaking her head, angry but unable to do anything about it.

"That was, while a little late," Darken Gray said from behind her, "neatly done."

Ivory turned towards her governess. "Thank you," she said, her voice level.

"I do not think I will mention this lapse to your mother."

Ivory felt her cheeks grow warm, and said again, "Thank you," with a bit more sincerity in it.

"We will skip your deportment lesson for the day," Darken Gray told her. "Go to your room," she picked up Ivory's jacket and held it towards her, "clean up, change, and your dance lesson will be at its usual time."

Ivory got up from the table, walked over to Darken Gray. She let the woman help her into the coat. "I am gonna build my own construct," she said to Darken Gray.

"As one would expect from a Twilight," Darken Gray said.

Ivory was not sure if she was being teased, but nodded, and left the workroom.

"We will talk about your punishment tonight before you go to bed," Darken Gray said from behind her.

"I understand," Ivory said, careful not to sigh.


	6. Prisoners and Untrusted Allies

**Prisoners and Untrusted Allies**

* * *

><p>Clarissa had been a little surprised when Lightning had arrived, with a bound, blindfolded and gagged Death Knight. It was not the fact that the Abyssal had been restrained in such a manner, she had seen such things before, but the slightly panicked look to Lightning's actions.<p>

It had been enough that she had not immediately started her teasing word play with the Lunar.

She had ordered something for them to drink, and in a room with large windows, with a fire burning in the hearth, she had listened to Lightning's story.

By the time Lightning had finished her tale Clarissa could see that Lightning had calmed some. Getting to her feet Clarissa walked over to the windows, looking out at the icy harbour of Windcreche. The house was up high, where the cold winds could get at it, but kept away the scents of the rendering plants. She looked over her shoulder. "What do you want to do now Daddy?"

Lightning looked as if she was about the protest the title, but instead she said, "I don't know."

Clarissa nodded, then looked back out the window, watching an ice boat that sailed across the frozen harbour below. "Shall we find another place to hold her?" She turned from the window and looked at the bound Courtesan.

Lightning shook her head. "I won't ask the Silver Pact to sacrifice any more people, or lose any more facilities. Not for this."

"Then what do you want to do Daddy?"

"Someone is hunting her. This time it was a single assassin, it could be an army next time. I don't think I have much time anymore. I'll need to talk to Heron and the others, see what they think. They deserve to know."

Clarissa walked over to the couch where Lightning had deposited Courtesan. "If you don't want to carry her all the way, I can arrange transport. Official is fastest at the moment, but we'd need to explain her. I suppose we could pass her off as a pleasure slave. You have her nearly trussed up like one Daddy."

"She bites," Lightning said.

"All the good ones do."

* * *

><p>Courtesan sat on the cot in the small, windowless room. It had been some hours since Lightning and the woman who called Lightning 'Daddy' had spoken. Courtesan had been carried to the room, most of her bonds released, but for a manacle around her ankle that kept her on a length of chain.<p>

She had been able to wash up, and change into a clean set of clothes, her funeral cloak worn over those. She lifted her leg, looked at the manacle. It was well made, though were her essence reserves not so depleted she might easily open it. Even with only her own skills she might remove it, with some time, but she did not think to try.

She was certain that Faded Maiden was following the Walker in Darkness' orders, and she did not know how many of his other Death Knights might be after her as well. At the moment, Lightning was her best hope. The Lunar wanted to keep her alive, thought Courtesan knew there were times that the woman did want to end her. However, so far, she had kept control or herself.

And Courtesan had done nothing to test that control.

She lay back on the cot, pulling her cape around herself, for the room was a little cool. She had returned to Creation, but the whispers were soft, nearly absent, in her mind. Had her true masters lost interest in her? Or was it that she was depleted of essence, somewhat cut off from her powers, that silenced them? She hoped it might be the former, for she did not relish the idea of the whispers returning to full force as soon as she was once more filled with the dark essence of the underworld.

She heard the locking bolt slide and then the door open, recognized Lightning from the uncomfortable connection they shared. She looked up from where she lay on the bed.

Lightning watched her, stared at her with a gaze that made Courtesan wish she was blindfolded.

"There are places, deep in the Wyld, where I could put you, places you would never leave, places where no one else would ever, could ever come. Do you believe me?"

Courtesan nodded. She had to swallow before she could say, "I believe you." She pulled her cape tighter around herself.

"That's good. I don't know what the voices in your head tell you, but remember what I said if you ever think of causing harm to those I consider friends."

"I won't, won't cause them any harm," she said quickly.

The Lunar crossed the small room in two long strides, stood standing over Courtesan. "If I even think that you will be a problem, you get tossed into some oubliette far out in the Wyld and I walk away." She leaned down and put a hand around Courtesan's throat. "We do have an understanding don't we?"

Courtesan's heart was beating hard in her ears, with the fear and the hard hand at her throat, and Lightning's eyes, with silvery light dancing in their depths.

"If you act accordingly I will do my best to find a way to deal with this problem that we both will find acceptable."

Courtesan nodded.

Lightning released her.

"I will continue to keep you bound when we travel."

Courtesan nodded. "I understand."

"How are you?" Lightning asked.

The question surprised Courtesan for its banality, for being so out of place.

"No injuries? Nothing you need?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"There is a graveyard in the city, in a few hours I will take you there, for a short time."

"Why?"

"You're useless without essence. I've guaranteed your safety. I might need you able to protect yourself."

The word useless were painful to hear. That Lightning might need her made her heart speed up again.

"You know that you will not easily flee me, even with essence?"

"I know."

Lightning said nothing else, left the room, locked the door.

Courtesan shifted on the cot, took a deep breath.

The Lunar terrified her.

Of course, she had to admit, most things ultimately terrified her.

* * *

><p>Lightning clenched her fists as she walked away from the cell where she had left Courtesan. The Death Knight tested her control, for she still wanted to kill it. It did not matter how much she knew that was the wrong choice, in her gut she knew that Courtesan should not be.<p>

With some distance she was able to relax slightly, letting her fists open, watching the cuts in her palms close and heal.

She took a handkerchief from her jacket, wiped the blood away, and went to find Clarissa.

Clarissa was in her office, paperwork spread about her desk. She looked up when Lightning entered. "Have a nice talk with your pet Daddy."

"Not my pet."

"Not really your prisoner either."

"She understands the situation. Get us the fastest transport you can."

"I will do so. You might want to be careful about telling anyone your ultimate destination Daddy."

"Why?"

"It seems your friends are beginning to attract more attention. The Halsanti League is not sure about what to think about your shipyards."

Lightning thought about it for a moment. "Production has picked up."

"Very much so, and there are some first age ships coming together."

"All we need is our flying island," Lightning said, smiling.

"If you bring a flying island there, is it almost certain you'll end up at war with the Halsanti league. I do not think they would take it well."

"Is that a fact or just your opinion?"

Clarissa lifted her shoulders and made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"What's the Silver Pact think?"

"In so much as I can speak for the Silver Pact, they are likely to take a 'wait and see' approach. For a while at least. If your experiment goes forward and maintains momentum, they will likely want to see you succeed."

"Business as usual."

"Of course Daddy."

Lightning took a seat across from Clarissa. "I need something drink."

Clarissa looked surprised for a moment, her eyebrows raising as her eyes widened. She opened a drawer of her desk, there was sound of her rummaging around, then she produced a bottle of dark liquid and a pair of tumblers.

Lightning took the bottle, pulled the cork out, then filled one of the tumblers near to the rim. "You?"

"Two fingers," she said, looking pointedly at the glass that Lightning had filled.

Lighting filled the second glass to a height of two fingers, then put the bottle aside and reached for her full glass. "I am having problems," she said, then drank half her glass contents.

Clarissa picked up her drink and sipped at it. "How so Daddy?"

"I want to hurt that woman. Not just kill her. Hurt her."

Clarissa put her glass down. "Do you think she wants to be hurt?"

"What?"

"Maybe you are just picking up on what she wants?"

Lightning shook her head, took a smaller drink from her glass. "No, she's not in it for pain. I'd say she is frightened of it." Lightning said nothing for a few seconds. "I'd say she's afraid of most things."

"Lunars and their mates have a strong bond," Clarissa said.

"She's not... Well, in a way, but not like she is."

"I think Daddy, since you can't love her in the way you might chose, you are doing what you can."

"Pardon?"

"And there is also the whole dominance thing of your animal side."

Lightning was about to protest, but she took a few minutes, slowing sipping at her drink until the glass was empty.

"You might be right," she said after a moment. "But I have no desire to make her the bottom to my top."

"I think you might not have a choice."

Lightning leaned back in the chair. "Luna curse it, you might be right." She closed her eyes.

"If it helps you resist your urge to kill her, and it keeps her submissive to you, is that really a bad thing?"

"I honestly don't know," Lightning said. "Did your real father ever have problems like this?"

"Oh Daddy, do you think previous Daddy would talk to me about his perverted sexual tastes?" Her tone was light, teasing.

Lightning laughed as she sat straight and opened her eyes. "True enough. How soon until we can leave?"

"Eight, maybe nine hours."

She got to her feet. "Then let's get to it. I've been going around in circles, refusing to make a decisions for too long. I'm going forward and I will survive the fallout, no matter what."

"As expected Daddy."

* * *

><p>Kihoshi leaned forward, his mechanical arm on the work table. Ivory sat across from him, magnifying lens over her right eye, tools in her hands, working on the arm.<p>

Hu sat near by, watching Kihoshi, as if to remind the Dragon Blood that he had taken his arm off before and that he might do it again.

"The barbarians like the weapons and armour you are sending them," Kihoshi said. "Better quality than they have ever had."

"That's good," Ivory said, doing something with a probe that caused the mechanical fingers to close into a fist. "Are you training them to use them well?"

"Of course I am."

"It's just that I don't think you are much of a commander, and I think Heron gave you the wrong busy work."

Kihoshi laughed. "You have quite the tongue on your young Peleps. You are going to rip your lovers' hearts to shreds when you get older."

Ivory paused in her work. Put the tools aside and touched her glass so the magnifying lenses whirred away from her eye. She looked at him. "And why couldn't I rip hearts to shreds now?"

"Oh, I am sure you could find those who would lust for you, but you'd find their hearts not worth shredding," he told her, smiling. "I've never cared too much for those whose preference ran to children."

Ivory wished she had not started the conversation, but for a moment she had hoped for something. A look, or something from the man that might suggest he found her desirable, or at least considered her worthy of even a momentary lustful thought.

Stupid of her.

"Yeah, I guess." She snapped the lenses back in place and returned to her work on the arm, asking more questions about the barbarians and their training to fill the silence. Finally she said, "I'm finished." She took the glass from her eye and snapped the access panels on the arm shut. "Give it a try."

He shifted away from the table, flexed his fingers, snapped his arm back and forth a few times, then, after a moment, caused a set of moonsilver talons to slide out from the fingers.

"Very nice." The talons snapped in and out several times. "Feels good. Smooth action. Will provide a nice surprise."

"Good," Ivory told him as she packed up her tools.

Kiyoshi smiled. "So, aren't you a little worried that with all these improvements you have made that I might be dangerous to you?"

Ivory looked at him. "That's okay. If you think of betraying Heron that arm will tear your throat out."

His expression went flat for a moment, then he laughed. "That's a good one little Peleps."

"I'm not joking," Ivory told him as she got to her feet. "Just one thought and," she mimed tearing her own throat.

Kiyoushi looked down at the artificial arm. "That's not funny."

Ivory smiled sweetly at him and then left the room, Hu following at her feet.

"That's not funny!" he called out after her.

"You could actually make that happen," Hu said to her.

"I know, but Heron would get mad at me if I did. And Kihoshi is too scared of Heron to try anything."

"Kihoshi-san," Darken Gray said as she came up from behind Ivory, surprising her. "Though Cathak Kihoshi-san would be more proper."

Ivory did not say anything to that, but she was not about to start being that respectful to Kihoshi. That was something that she and Darken Gray could disagree on, and as long as she did not tell Darken Gray that everything would be fine.

Her governess regarded Ivory for a few seconds as they walked, then said, "Captain Sparrow Hawk sent word, she should be back in a few hours."

"Sparrow is coming back?"

Darken Gray frowned.

"I mean Sparrow-san."

"Yes, she is. We will shift your lessons around so that you might speak to her when she returns. She will of course have questions for you."

"I just wanna, want to, go up and wait for her at the landin' pad."

Darken Gray looked down at her, her face a mask. "I suppose we will get nothing accomplished anyway. Very well, but dress warm, and behave."

"Yes, I will!" Ivory said as she ran off towards her room.

"And don't run," Darken Gray called after her.

* * *

><p>Sparrow circled the Ice Tree several times before bringing the Razor into its landing berth. She was quite pleased with what she saw. A number of the airboats had been completed, including the first class airboats she had been worried about; and it looked as if some of the first age craft had been made whole.<p>

The Razor slipped smoothly into the docking clamp, the landing gear locking in. Sparrow shut the ship down, ran her post flight operations. Through the Canopy she could see Tar and Ivory waiting, both of them obviously wanting to talk to her. Ivory was carrying a large satchel over her shoulder.

Finished with the post flight Sparrow exited ship, locking it up behind her.

Tar looked uncertain, she thought as she walked towards him. The kind of uncertainty a man in his middle years, who was a skilled ship wright and foreman, might feel standing next to a 9 year old girl who probably knew more about ship building than he.

She felt for him, and it was why she went straight to him, asking for a report.

As Tar gave her a run down on the operation of the yards, and the status of the ships, the uncertainty fell away from him. Ivory waited quietly, but with obvious impatience, fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot as Tar spoke.

Sparrow moved off the spar, into the Tree, Tar and Ivory following her. By the time Tar had finished his report, which included a lot of details about the workers (things that Ivory tended to overlook) they were in a small observation room.

She hung her sword by the door and shifted out of her fur lined, buff jacket. "Sounds like you have things under control here Tar," she told him, tossing the jacket across one the chairs, the weight of the garment almost tipping the chair over.

"Thank you ma'am," he said, dipping his head respectfully.

"I want to lay the keels for three more first air class airboats, and I want to make them gunships."

"Gunships ma'am?"

"We have enough feather steel to properly armour them, and I have some ideas about the guns we are going to put on them."

"Fighting ships, they'll use a lot of resources," he told her, his tone uncertain.

"I know. I have considered the costs."

He nodded. "Of course. I'll have the reports for you tomorrow, and the teams ready to start as soon as you give the say."

"Good."

He stood there for a moment, waiting to see if Sparrow had anything else to say. Whet he realized she was done with him he turned and left the room.

Sparrow dropped into a seat. "Can we get some tea, or coffee or something? Any mechanical servants you can call?" she asked Ivory.

"Sorry, no servitors. I can build some."

"Maybe later. So, give me your..."

"Pardon me," Darken Gray said from the door. She held a tea set in her hands.

"That's a surprise," Sparrow said. "Listening in?"

"Perish the thought Captain Sparrow," she said, walking into the room. "I just assumed you might want something after a long flight, and Ivory still has much to learn about being a proper host."

"Thank you."

She put the tea set on a table and began to pour. "I would ask that you finish up with Ivory within an hour if possible. She is already missing her dance class."

"Dance class?" Sparrow asked, looking towards Ivory.

"I'm leanin' a martial art called Dreaming Pearl Courtesan," Ivory said. "Kind of like dancing."

"I would like to watch that."

"We can arrange that. It does Ivory good to have an audience," Darken Grey said as she put the tea cups in front of Ivory and Sparrow. "Now, please excuse me." She left without another word.

Sparrow lifted the cup and took a drink. It was hot, and bitter, with a floral hint that was pleasant. She smiled as she put the cup down. "I like your nanny."

"Governess," Ivory said sharply.

"Of course. Now what is your take on the situation?"

Ivory took a drink of her tea. "Tar has most of it. We are resource poor. No one really wants to sell to us, not that the materials we need are in abundance anyway." She reached for her satchel, opened it, and began to remove sheets of rolled paper. "I have some ideas."

"Let's hear them."

"We are going to need more feather steel to keep up production."

"If we can't buy it we need to salvage it or produce our own," Sparrow said. "Salvaging is too slow, and I don't have the resources to protect a mine. We could steal it I suppose, but that will not make us any friends."

"Agreed, so I looked at some old records. This place used't harvest a forest in the Wyld. The wood's lighter an' stronger than feather steel. Won't burn easy either."

"In the Wyld?"

"I know, we'll need to talk to Lightning, see what she can tell us about dealin' with the Fair Folk."

"So, what would the numbers be like?"

Ivory put several rolls of paper on the table, spread them out, used her tea cup and plate to hold them flat. "Three trips a year, two first class airships loaded up fully for each trip, would let us build at full capacity."

Sparrow looked at the pages Ivory had put in front of her. The girl's handwriting had improved quiet a bit she thought. "What's with all the machinery?"

"We'll need it to mill the wood. There's some in the lower levels, but it needs to be fixed up."

Sparrow looked over the requirements listed out next to the drawings. "Bit of work to do it, but worth it if we can get the wood."

"Yeah," Ivory agreed.

"Once Lightning gets back we will talk to her. What about the First Age ships?"

"Still lackin' parts and materials, but I got some of them working."

"The cargo ship I sent?"

Ivory nodded. "It's ready to go."

Sparrow smiled. "Heavy cargo lifting, that changes things."

Ivory lifted her shoulders. "A little bit." She removed several more rolls of paper from the satchel. "This is what I need to continue work on the first age ships."

Sparrow looked through lists, shuffling through them for a time before putting them aside. "I can't get you most of that."

Ivory nodded, apparently understanding, but disappointed.

"Given time..."

"Twenty or thirty years," Ivory said.

"About that." She looked at the disappointed Ivory, was a little angry that for some reason Ivory had expected her to have everything in her pocket. Then she felt a little guilty for that.

"I found your ship," she told Ivory, "your strike cruiser."

"Really?"

"Just where you said. It's in a valley, covered in ice."

"Covered in ice?"

Sparrow looked through the pages that Ivory had brought, flipped one over to the blank side. "Something to write with?"

Ivory reached into the satchel and brought out a writing kit.

Sparrow took it from her, opened it, and removed the brush and ink stone. In a short time she was drawing out the valley, her estimates of the dimensions, and then sketched in the cruiser's shape.

Ivory was leaning over the picture, watching as Sparrow worked. "How thick is the ice cover?"

"Twenty feet, maybe thirty."

Ivory leaned back. "That much ice, it could crush the hull, probably has."

"It was hard to say, but if the hull was crushed, it has still kept it shape."

Ivory brushed her thumb between her lips, gently bit on her thumbnail, eyes unfocused for a moment. "Maybe," she said, taking her thumb away from her lips, "it was meant to be covered in ice."

"For storage?"

Ivory nodded. "Maybe."

"We won't know until we salvage it. Can you get through the ice?"

"Demons, elementals, just need enough ta break through."

"It's close to the Wyld, on full moons it is probably in the Wyld. How long would it take?"

"To move the ice? Five, six days. Longer if the hull is damaged. If it's extant, at least a week to get it ready to fly. If it's damaged, maybe a month to fix it, if I have the materials. If we have to salvage it, two weeks to a month."

"I'll need a significant force to hold the area for a month."

"How long?" Ivory leaned forward.

"Six months to a year to put it together."

"A year?" Ivory nearly whined.

"It will take that much time to gather and train them. Lightning might be able to help with it."

"I guess," Ivory sighed. "I just want to see it."

"You and me both kid."

Ivory looked as if she might protest the use of 'kid', but instead she took several more rolls of paper from her satchel. "I looked into your floating island."

Now it was Sparrow's turn to lean forward. "What do you have?"

"In the First Age they built great, flying citadels, huge ones." She spread her arms out as if to give a sense of their vastness. "But we're a hundred years 'way from being able to start buildin' them, and another hundred years after that 'fore we finish one."

"I don't have the patience to wait two centuries."

"Me neither. So I looked at your idea of grabbing one from the Wyld. It can work."

Ivory spread the sheets out. "There are reports of flying islands like that, and sometimes, in the First Age, they lassoed a fewed and pulled them into Creation. Usually it was for resources, cause they were made up entirely of some material they wanted."

"Did they ever use them like we want to?"

Ivory shook her head. "Not that I could find out. The problem is once you get it into Creation it is going to stop floatin', sooner or later. But if you had a limited area chaos engine, you could keep the central part of the Island in the Wyld, so it would float."

"Chaos engine?"

"Kind of like a reality engine, but in reverse."

"You could build a chaos engine?"

"I don't see why not."

Sparrow decided to leave that statement alone. "So we find an island, set up a chaos engine, and pull it into Creation? What about motive force?"

"That's harder. Once it is in Creation if might have to go with the winds, mostly."

Sparrow looked over the plans Ivory had lain out. "You can work on that?"

Ivory nodded.

"Damn, we're getting busy here. I'm going to be asking Lightning to do a lot here. We need more lunars."

"I don't want 'em," Ivory said. "I mean, Lightning is alright... but, I don't want one bothering Heron."

Sparrow was surprised for a moment, thought about it, decided that she agreed with Ivory. She herself had no desire to share Heron with anyone else. Not about to say that to Ivory she said, "We'll see." Which was an adult to child cop out that Sparrow had hated when she had been Ivory's age but was glad of now.

"That's all I have for now," Ivory said as she began to gather up her notes.

"Good work, thank you Ivory."

Ivory nodded, smiled.

* * *

><p>Dragon easily trotted up slope, hoofs thumping down on the frozen dirt. Nearby Dreaming Blue rode, not as well as he, but well enough. Behind them, drawn by a team of yeddim, was a large wagon, weighed down with various goods, including a fortune in jade and silver.<p>

The Ice Tree had been built in a crater of some sort, natural or created Heron did not know, so anyone approaching from the ground had to contend with the slope first. It was steep enough to make the climb hard, and the six yeddim were straining as they neared the crater rim.

On the rim, waiting for them, were members of the barbarian tribe, mounted on tall reindeer.

"Will this be a problem?" Dreaming Blue asked, no alarm in her tone.

"No, Sparrow and Lightning won Lashang and his tribe over early on."

"Are they any good?"

"They are getting there, thanks in part to him."

Heron rose a hand, both pointing and greeting. Near the centre of the line of riders, a heavy cloak covering his armour, was Kihoshi. The Dragon Blood lifted his arm in answer, the late day sun reflecting off the metal.

Dreaming Blue frowned. "Isn't that one of the Terrestrials that was hunting you?"

"He was."

"And now he serves you."

"Yes."

"You are terrible."

"I try my best."

They continued up the rim, the yeddim breathing heavily, their breath great gusts of vapour.

"Welcome back," Kihoshi called out.

"Thank you," Heron said. "This is Dreaming Blue. Dreaming Blue, Cathak Kihoshi."

The fire aspect favoured Dreaming Blue with a smile as he looked her up and down. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Yes," Dreaming Blue said.

Heron looked at the barbarians around them. They met his gaze, but nodded respectfully. "Let's go," he said, directing Dragon over the rim.

Kihoshi fell in beside him as the barbarian reindeer riders split off, riding along the ridge. Behind him her head the yeddim grunt and blow as they pulled the wagon over the rim. Dreaming Blue's horse followed.

"How are things up there?" he asked, looking towards the Ice Tree.

"Things are good, as far as I can tell. Built a lot more ships than they thought they would. Captain Sparrow's been back for two days now. I hear she's got them laying keels for gunboats."

"Gunboats?" Dreaming Blue asked. "Whatever for?"

"Ask her," Kihoshi answered, and then to Heron, "Your little sister has things set up quite nicely."

Heron smiled. "Good to see she has been keeping busy. I feared what she might do if she became bored."

Kihoshi laughed and continued to tell him of the state of the Ice Tree and its inhabitants.

They rode along one of the few safe paths, avoiding ice pits and the broken rock that might shift and cause a mount to fall. The Ice Tree loomed higher above them, and the closer they rode the clearer the ships that docked upon the spars became.

There were more ships that he had expected; even with Kihoshi's earlier statement to that effect he was somewhat surprised, and said as much.

"Tell me about it. No one quiet believes it," Kihoshi said. "They are burning through resources faster than they can get replacements."

"I believe it," Dreaming Blue said, not sounding happy.

Heron looked back at her. He smiled. "And we are just starting."

"I am aware."

He continued smiling as he turned back to the path ahead.

The path became easier to follow, clearer, better maintained, as they closed on the Ice Tree's base. The lowest part of the main shaft of the tree was near featureless wall, only a single set of doors leading into it—most of the supplies and people were brought in by airship.

Kihoshi slid down from his mount, taking its reins, and approached the doors. He placed his hand on a black plate beside the one of the door.s A moment later the doors parted and opened, warm, scented air rolling out, carrying the smell of animals with it.

Heron rode Dragon through the doors, into a stable level. The interior was brightly lit, almost like real sunlight, and the animals looked happy enough. Stable hands were busy, keeping the area clean and the animals cared for.

He rode to a large stall, slid from Dragon's back and then led him in. While stablehands helped Dreaming Blue and Kihoshi with their mounts, and led the yeddim and wagon in, Heron took care of Dragon himself. After he had stripped the saddle and bridle from the horse he took a comb to him. Once finished he poured a generous portion of oats into the feeding trough and made sure the water was fresh.

By that time more stablehands were unloading the wagon, the yeddim having been led to a coral. Dreaming Blue had taken a place by the wagon, watching the workers.

"It's not like they are going to steal it," Heron said as he walked to her.

"I helped earn some of that jade. I will see it properly delivered."

"How much jade?" Kiyoshi asked.

"Quite a bit," Heron said.

The supplies were piled neatly, sorted by contents. When they got to the large wooden cases in the bottom Heron told the workers to carry them right to the cargo lift. None of the cases were very large, a few feel long on each side, not very deep, but they were heavy with precious metals.

After several minutes of hard work the boxes were all in the lift, weighing it down.

"Let's go," Heron said.

The lift took them, the jade and silver up the middle levels of the Ice Tree. The doors opened on a large room, Sparrow standing in front of the doors, several armed guards with her.

"Welcome back," she said to Heron, smiling brightly. "Funds?" She raised her hands, indicating the boxes.

"As promised," he told her with an answering smile almost as bright. Seeing her brought a certain sense of contentment, the feeling of meeting a friend not seen for a long time.

"Get these into the main vault," she told the guards.

The guards quickly went to the task.

Heron moved out of their way.

"Isn't she the Sidereal that was with us at Thorns?"

"Yes, she is here to protect Ivory."

"Ivory?"

Heron nodded.

Sparrow laughed.

"Yes, very amusing," Dreaming Blue said, her tone cold.

Sparrow only shrugged her shoulders and asked, "What is the financial situation like?"

"Those boxes just represent about a tenth of what I managed to put together. The rest is held in finical institutions for you to draw on. It should cover the operating expense for about five years."

"You're joking?"

"Not one bit."

"That is one less worry then, which is handy because we do not have a shortage of worries. So really, what's the Sidereal doing here?"

"Dreaming Blue, and she says she has been assigned to protect Ivory and to keep us out of trouble, an advisor of sorts."

Sparrow looked over at her. "And why would he believe you?"

"He does not, as it happens. But Darken Gray will speak to it. You will believe her?"

"I will admit she is doing her best to take care of the girl."

"Where is Ivory right now? I thought she would be here."

"In her fencing lesson I believe. Her nurse has probably ensured she has not learned about your return."

"Governess," Heron said with a smile.

"Oh yes, well, an honest mistake."

The guards were still moving the crates into the vault. "Carry on commander," Sparrow told one of them, and then, "Let's go to my office. We can talk there is some comfort. Kihoshi, supervise the transfer."

"Understood," Kihoshi said.

"Let's go." Sparrow led the way, taking them to an office a few levels above the vaults.

"Why the gunboats?" Heron asked once they had taken seats.

"We've done some amazing things here," Sparrow told him. "People are noticing. Some are getting scared and some are covetous. Both good reasons to have some extra offensive ability."

"Just human?"

"As far as I know. What have you found out?"

Heron relayed the story of the events at Jallian and the Yozi.

"Strange," Sparrow said.

"Yes," he answered with a laugh.

"I probably would have thought to bring the ship back here. Ivory and Lightning as well."

"In other circumstances I might have as well," Heron said.

"And what do you think Sidereal?" Sparrow asked Dreaming Blue.

"I think you have more enemies than friends."

"What, do you think that is not obvious?"

"I might be an advisor, but I am not here to spoon feed you the information you want."

"Dreaming Blue is actually here to spy on us," Heron said.

"Really?" Sparrow turned her gaze on Dreaming Blue.

"Are you acting to betray Creation?" the Sidereal asked.

Sparrow nodded. "I am sure that if I am you will be certain to inform me after the fact. Heron, did you bring her here for us to get rid of?"

"Not at this time. I trust she will he honest about our activities."

"We do indeed have more enemies than friends." Sparrow was staring at Dreaming Blue, as if she was trying to see right through her.

Heron shifted about in his chair to get her attention. "As long as Dreaming Blue focuses on looking out for Ivory she'll be busy enough."

Sparrow looked at him for several seconds. "I understand."

Heron supposed she did, but he would talk to her in private later. "We have things we will need to talk about, plans to make."

"Once Lightning gets back," Sparrow told him.

"Pardon me for intruding," Dreaming Blue said archly, "but I would like to talk to Ivory."

"I'll handle the introductions," Heron said as he got to his feet. "We can talk later."

"I look forward to it," Sparrow said.

She sounded sincere, and Heron found that he was pleased about that.

* * *

><p>Ivory was not pleased that no one has let her know that Heron was back. She was even less pleased by the presence of Dreaming Blue.<p>

"I am not letting you have the watch," Ivory said angrily, her short daiklaive lifted.

Hu stood nearby, a quiet and obvious threat.

"Jupiter give me patience," Dreaming Blue said.

Heron was laughing, softly, but obviously so, and that made Ivory angry in a way she could not quite sort out at that moment.

"Ivory," Darken Gray said, "put your sword down."

"But..."

"You are being impolite."

Ivory frowned, but lowered her blade. "She's an enemy," Ivory said.

"I fought with you against the Mask," Dreaming Blue said in way of counter.

It was, Ivory had to admit, a valid point.

"She is here to watch over you. She is your bodyguard," Darken Gray told her.

"What?" Ivory turned to look at her.

"Say, 'Pardon me', and Aisha Hikari Ex has done you the great honour of arranging a Sidereal bodyguard."

"You knew about this?" It was, Ivory thought, something of a betrayal. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I have told you?"

Ivory's first thought was to scream something rude at Darken Grey that would explain exactly why she should have been told, but she checked that desire, with difficulty, knowing it would make her look childish in front of Heron.

"I would have liked to know." Her words were a little sharp, each a little too stressed to sound natural, but at least she was not shouting.

"I will remember that," Darken Gray said. "I look forward to working with you Dreaming Blue."

Ivory gave up and turned to Heron. "I am glad you're back," she said, smiling. "I got things to show you."

"I look forward to seeing them. You tiger gun was quite useful."

"I knew'd it be," she said happily.

"Our Sidereal friend was rather disturbed by it."

"Good," Ivory said.

"Ivory," Darken Gray said, tone warning.

"I am thinking of making a bigger one for one of Sparrow's gunships, Going to call it the gardra gun."

"Sound terrifying." His tone was light.

She nodded.

"You'll excuse us Heron-sama," Darken Gray said, "I must speak to Ivory. Perhaps you can continue your conversation later?"

Ivory turned to stare at Darken Gray, eyes narrowed in what she thought was a clear sign of anger.

Darken Gray did not seem to to notice.

"Of course," Heron said.

"You don't haf to to leave," Ivory said, shifting her attention to Heron.

"We can talk later." He gently ruffled her hair, then left.

"I wanted to talk to Heron." She turned on Darken Gray.

Darken Gray looked down at her, frowning.

Ivory looked up at her, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Perhaps you can have your little power struggle later," Dreaming Blue said. "At the moment we have some things to discuss."

"What?" Ivory asked.

"Ivory, you are being boring," Darken Gray said.

That hurt, Ivory thought. "Perhaps you would care to tell me how you came to be my body guard," she said to Dreaming Blue, frostily polite.

"Of course."

"Let us go someplace where we can sit in comfort." Darken Gray led the way from the room, Dreaming Blue following.

Ivory looked over at Hu, then went after the two women.

Darken Gray took them to a small, warm room. As the sidereal took a seat in one of the room's over stuffed chairs, the god set about making a pot of tea, doing so in a supernaturally short time. Ivory chose one of the less stuffed chairs, not wanting to sink into it, and waited.

Soon the three of them sat, with cups of tea, facing each other. Ivory took a drink of her's, tasting more milk than tea.

"Why you?" Ivory asked.

"Chejop Kejak wants me to uncover your crimes against Creation."

"What crimes?"

"Any will do."

Ivory leaned forward in her chair, doubting she looked as intimidating as she hoped. "Have you told Heron?"

"Yes I have."

Ivory did not like that. "We've done nothin' wrong!"

"That is mostly true. And as long as you remain innocent of such crimes, you have nothing to worry about."

"I am glad to hear that. My lady Aisha Hikari Ex would be somewhat disappointed to learn otherwise." Darken Gray let that sink in as she took a drink of her tea.

"So I have been tasked to keep you well. I am also here for the orrery."

"You can't have it!"

"Ivory," Darken Gray said sharply.

Ivory turned her attention to Darken Gray. "This is between two Exalts." She kept her tone level that time.

Darken Gray did not immediately answer, but after a moment said, "Very well."

"It's mine."

Dreaming Blue shook her head. "What about we come to an agreement?"

"What kind?" Ivory was suspicious.

"I will teach your as much as I can about the orrery, and during those lessons I have access to it."

"Is this gonna be learnin' 'strology?" Ivory asked.

"Astrology," Darken Gray corrected.

"There will be aspects of that, yes," Dreaming Blue said only a beat behind the governess. "However it will be nothing like astrology that have might have studied until now."

Ivory thought about it for a moment. "Deal," she said, holding out her hand towards Dreaming Blue.

The Sidereal looked at Ivory for a moment, then reached out and took Ivory's hand.

"Let's start," Ivory said.

"You do have an etiquette class, one which you are much in need of," Darken Gray told her.

Ivory shifted her attention to Darken Gray. "But Darken Gray, it would be impolite to not let our guest examine the orrery."

"Not bad," Darken Gray admitted.

"Interesting change of attitude," Dreaming Blue remarked.

"I will allow the change in your schedule for today, as we have a guest."

Ivory did not trust Dreaming Blue, it would be stupid to do so. Heron had brought her in however, so she could not be immediately dangerous.

Ivory produced the orrery. She placed it on the table in front of Dreaming Blue.

The Sidereal looked at it for several seconds, the same look in her eyes as when Ivory had first let her use it. She picked it up, opened the case, and as it had last time, it expanded out and out and out until stars filled the space above the orrery case.

Ivory leaned forward, watching, for she had not been able to replicate what Dreaming Blue did. There was, she thought, essence involved, Sidereal essence.

"Everything spins about, a state of flux," Dreaming Blue remarked. "Everyone is planning something."

"What does it mean?"

"The obvious," Dreaming Blue said. "The Calendar of Setesh is in flux, so much uncertainty at the moment. The Green Sun and the constellations of brass ride along on the outskirts of Creation. And in the Wyld the Raksha follow their insane dictates."

"Isn't that how it usually is?" Ivory asked.

Dreaming Blue nodded. "All except for the Underworld, but with all the changes one would expect chaos there." She ran her fingers along the casing and the constellations jumped and refocused. "And here are the forces in play around you."

Ivory looked up at the image, gently biting her lower lip for a moment. "That's the Green Sun, isn't it?"

"It is. We already knew there were elements from Malfeas interested in you, but it is eclipsed by the True Sun."

"So we're winning," Ivory said.

"You are certainly dominant in this conflict for the moment." Dreaming Blue paused, looking up at the the star scape "The Corpse and the Crow are in the house of the Moon," she said thoughtfully, "the Lovers are shadowed by the Spear, and Calendar of Setesh drifts close."

"What does it mean?"

"It could mean anything, but the Moon is usually not so close to the Underworld."

Ivory thought of many things it could suggest, but knew that simply guessing was not going to get her the information.

"Tell me more please," she said, looking up at the orrery. "Explain it all."

"It would take decades to explain it all," Dreaming Blue told her, "but we can start with what we are seeing now."

* * *

><p>"Do you really trust her?" Sparrow asked when Heron returned. "I mean, even if just trust she won't kill us in our sleep?"<p>

"We have attracted attention," Heron said as he took a seat. "That is both good and bad. It limits what direct actions Dreaming Blue's superior can take against us. She won't kill us in our sleep."

"That's something," she said doubtfully.

"I would think so. That is the danger within, what about the danger from the outside?"

"No one is quite willing to go against us, but we are certainly on their maps. It would not take too much effort to get some nations launching probing attacks to see what we will do. I have the resources to slap down such an attack if it comes."

"Give me some time and I can work on some diplomatic solutions. It should not be too hard to create a ring around us, quiet allies who will keep the others away, or at least give us warning."

"It would make our position more secure." Sparrow leaned back in her chair. "We are reaching the point where we either have to spend resources to dig in here or we cut loose and find a place more remote and easier to defend."

"We would be giving up a lot if we left here."

"Physical resources, easily replaced."

Heron was not so certain of that, but did not question Sparrow's assertion. "So, what are the plans, barring defending ourselves or retreating?"

"I need to set up a better supply chain, Ivory has given me some options. And there are some salvage projects I want to look into."

"What are the supply chain issues?"

"A lack of one. Most of the materials we need are already in high demand."

"That is something of a challenge. If anyone does have a surplus they are willing to trade with I can do something."

Sparrow smiled. "You could gamble for it."

"I would be surprised if anyone that controlled such a surplus would put it up as stakes."

"You could convince them to," Sparrow said, leaning forward slightly.

"That is something I would rather not do."

Sparrow looked a little surprised and shifted back. "Why?"

Heron was at a loss for a moment for the right words. He finally said, "I only gamble with people who have made the choice to do so. Otherwise it is just stealing."

"It seems a lot like stealing as it is. Do you ever lose?"

Heron laughed for a moment. "Sometimes, it is never a certain thing."

"Given that we will not be stealing, that leaves pursuing other options to get our building supplies. I'll have to speak with Lightning when she gets back."

"When do you expect her to return?"

"I'm not really certain, if she follows her usual pattern, perhaps in the next week or two."

"I will wait until she is is back before I make any plans."

"So you will stay?" Sparrow shifted forward again, there was something in her tone that Heron thought was eager.

He nodded.

"It will be good to have you back."


	7. Occluded Sun Revealed

**Occluded Sun Revealed**

* * *

><p>The pilot, a man named Lofar, of the courier airboat looked nervously between passengers and destination. Lightning was of the opinion that he was regretting his decision. He was a dark skinned southerner, with an accent that suggested he had not been born in the north.<p>

"You have nothing to worry about," Lightning reassured him.

It was not the first time that she had told the man that, worried that he might bring the small airboat around and flee back the way he had come. That would certainly be a problem.

"Of course, of course," Lofar said, keeping a hand on the tiller as he reached up to grab one of the lines, giving it a nervous tug.

The cabin of the boat was not very big, and Lofar needed most of that space, so Courtesan sat near to Lightning The woman was dressed in her cloak, under it she wore winter clothing against the cold, and bonds of leather to keep her secure. Lightning had not gagged her, but left that as a promise were Courtesan to cause her any problems.

"Something's coming," Lofar said.

Lightning shifted about, looking in the direction of the pilot. In the distance, but approaching, was another ship. Probably a second class airboat. "Keep going, they are only coming out to take a look."

"Are you sure?" Lofar asked nervously.

Using essence to give her words more weight she said, "There is nothing to worry about."

He nodded, no longer seeming nervous.

Lightning leaned back, waiting for the other ship to reach them. When she had left there was no reason that the forces of the Ice Tree would react with immediate violence to incoming airships. If that had changed likely Lofar and his airboat were not going to survive.

As they got closer Lightning could see more of the ship. It was armed with small ballistae and the like, and on the side closest to them she could make out soldiers armed with bows. Even if it was not carrying such weaponry the size differences between the two craft put the courier ship at a disadvantage. Near the stern one of the sailors was waving large flags.

"Flags," Lofar said, "signals, telling us to keeping moving forward, cut forward speed."

"Better do so then."

Lofar loosened one of the lines, the ship's main sail dropping so it would catch less wind.

The larger airboat came around them and took up a parallel course, following them into the Ice Tree's airspace.

There were more signals sent up, and the courier boat was directed towards a spar, high on the Ice Tree, far from any of the other, occupied spars.

Lofar tossed a line to the ground crew on the end of the spar. One of the crew, a heavy set man, grabbed the line, pulled it into a windlass, and fed it into the sprocket system.

Both of the crew spun the windlass and the courier boat was brought to a jerking halt and then pulled to the spar.

As well as the ground crew there were four guards waiting for them, and as the crew secured the ship one of the guards stepped close. "What is your reason for coming here?" she asked.

Lightning leaned over the gondola. "It's good to see you Una."

The woman looked surprised. "Madam Lightning, I am glad to see you back."

"Glad to be back. Any issues?"

"No Madam, but Captain Sparrow has asked us to run a tighter watch."

"Probably a good thing. Lofar," she looked over at the pilot, "do you need anything?"

"If they got some kerosene I can buy, that'd be good. A little time to give the boat a once over before leaving."

Lightning took Courtesan's shoulder in a tight grip and directed her towards the side of the gondola. "Get him what he needs," she told the tallest of the ground crew, "within reason for course." She looked towards Una. "Help me get her down."

Una handed her spear to another of the guards and came close to give courtesan a hand down.

Bound as she was Courtesan could do little, and was handed down as if she were a pice of luggage. Next Lightning tossed down their packs. Una took the bags and Lightning jumped from the gondola. She directed Courtesan towards the main shaft of the Ice Tree. Three of the guards remained to watch over the pilot and the ship, but Una, carrying their bags, led the way for Lightning.

The door into the main structure was locked, and Una had to open it with a key and a combination.

It was very warm inside, quite different from when Lightning had left. "Ivory got the heating back on?"

"Yes Madam. It has become very comfortable here."

"Hopefully it is not dulling your edge."

Una smiled, flashing teeth that were perhaps a little too sharp. "We make sure to spend time outside. The cold keeps us honed."

"Glad to hear it. Where is Sparrow?"

"She would have been told about the approaching ship, so she is probably down near the Razor's docking spar."

"Take us there."

The elevators, which had been uncertain at best when she had left, worked flawlessly and took them quickly to the middle levels of the tree. They found Sparrow talking to Tar near one of the exits out onto a spar.

"Lightning, I am glad you're back."

"Glad to be back."

"And this is?" she looked towards Courtesan.

"Not here. I'll explain later. And I need a secure place for my guest."

"Tar, Una, you can go now," Sparrow said.

The two left.

Sparrow waited until there was little chance of her being overheard and asked, "You need a prison cell?"

"That is what I need."

Sparrow looked at the cloaked Courtesan. "Interesting. Let's go to my office and I will send someone for Ivory. She'll know the best place to put her."

"I don't..." Lightning paused. "Yes, that is a good idea."

Sparrow waited as if to see if Lightning might explain herself better. When it was obvious she would not Sparrow said, "This way."

Along the way she sent someone to get Ivory.

They had not been in Sparrow's office long, enough time for Sparrow to offer something to drink, when Ivory came in, accompanied by two women; Darken Gray and Dreaming Blue.

"Politics?" Lightning said to the Sidereal.

Dreaming Blue looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. "Quite."

"Ivory, Lightning needs someplace secure of her guest," Sparrow said.

"Wait," Lightning said, who had been distracted by Dreaming Blue's presence.

Ivory on seeing who that guest was let out a cry of surprise, jumping back, golden strings of essence forming between her fingers.

"Wait!" Lightning yelled again, even as she saw Hu crouching on the far side of the room... where he had come from she did not know, probably some a patch of shadow. She moved between the Courtesan and Ivory. "She's my prisoner."

"She tried to kill me," Ivory said, not backing down.

"Hold it," Sparrow said loudly.

"Why was she trying to kill Ivory?" Dreaming Blue asked even as she turned her body to shield Ivory.

Lightning was not sure how to explain that and keep a fight from starting, so she said, "Haven't you wanted to kill her?"

"Good point."

"No one is killing Ivory," Darken Gray said.

"No one is killing anyone," Sparrow shouted as her caste mark flared into being on her forehead and she slammed her fist down on her desk, cracking the wood.

Everyone in the room turned to look at Sparrow.

"Lightning, Explain please," Sparrow said, her essence fuelled tone brooking no argument.

Lightning flipped the funeral cloak away from Courtesan, revealing the leather straps that secured her arms behind her back, and the chain that hobbled her ankles. "She's secure."

"She's a death knight, she could break free at any moment," Ivory said.

"She is not going to break free," Lightning said, suddenly tired of it all. "Look, I just need a place to lock her up. Then we can talk."

"Ivory, we need a cell to hold her. Now."

Ivory looked like she might argue with Sparrow, but only for a moment. "Fine, there is a secure room on the ninth level."

"Ivory, don't be petulant," Darken Gray said.

"She was trying to kill me I can be as petulant as I want!" Ivory countered.

"You will have to get used to that and deal with it with grace and poise."

Ivory opened her mouth, then closed it, took a deep breath and said, "Fine, this way." Ivory was about to turn with Dreaming Blue put a hand on her shoulder.

"Grace and poise aside, you don't get in the same lift as someone who might still want you dead," Dreaming Blue told her. She looked up at Lightning. "Perhaps you should go ahead."

"Right," Lightning said, pulling the cloak back over Courtesan before leading her from the room.

It was when they were in the lift that Courtesan said, her tone soft, "I don't feel the need to kill her."

"I know," Lightning said. "I was watching you."

"So it was a test?"

Lightning did not reply, just watched her.

The woman was far from broken. She was deceptively strong, and deadly, and so damn beautiful. The last thought surprised Lightning, not so much for that it was, but that it had escaped her control.

On the ninth level she directed Courtesan to an out of the way place they could wait in silence.

When Ivory arrived, with her retinue of protectors, Lightning followed to the room that was going to be the cell.

"Secure storage," Ivory said. "Can't be opened from the inside."

Lightning looked around the bare room as she led Courtesan into it. "She'll need some place to sleep, blankets, and the like."

"I asked Captain Sparrow to have some things sent," Darken Gray said.

"Thank you."

Lightning removed the bindings from Courtesan, allowing her to take off the warm clothing. She then secured her again, the ankle hobbles and set of cuffs to locked her hands in front of her. If the Abyssal wanted to break free she could probably do so, but as long as the room was secure it would not matter.

By then the cot, blankets and others things had arrived.

As Lightning pushed on the heavy door the small room looked a little more comfortable. Still a cell. She closed the door.

"Is there a key?"

Ivory shook her head. "It requires a code, and can be sent to need a caste mark."

"Good. Set it to open with mine."

Ivory did as asked, and Lightning walked back towards the lifts, feeling better that Courtesan was not getting out and that no one would accidentally open the door.

Heron was waiting in Sparrow's office. It was crowded with all of them in there, but they managed to take seats, and there was hot tea for anyone who wanted it. Lightning did, enjoying the warmth and the subtle, bitter taste of the leaves that made her feel a little more aware.

Sparrow looked around at the gathering in her office. "Why did you bring an Abyssal here, especially one that was trying to kill Ivory?"

"It is something we should keep amongst us," Lightning said, her gaze falling on the Solars and the tiger.

"Are you keeping secrets already?" Dreaming Blue asked. "Should I be concerned about what you are planning with an enemy of Creation?"

"If Lightning does not want you here, you go. Report whatever you want," Sparrow said.

Things were a little tense in that room, Lightning thought. She shifted her gaze to Dreaming Blue, noticed a slight shift of the woman's throat, as if she was trying not to swallow. A little anger, but, something else.

"She can stay," Lightning said, "as can Gray." She looked towards the god. "You deserve to know why I brought a threat like this here."

"Thank you," Darken Gray said, lowering her chin and dipping her head formally.

"Alright, then let's talk," Sparrow said.

Lightning took another drink of her tea, knowing everyone in that room was watching her, waiting for her explanation. "She is called Nihilistic Courtesan. She was born near Great Forks, became an Abyssal more than a year ago and was trained as an assassin. She is my Solar Mate."

She had expected something of an explosion of questions, of denials, confused noise. She did not get it. Sparrow looked surprised, but did not voice it. Darken Gray took in a breath, a little louder than her usual breathing. Hu growled softly.

"Do you want to kill her?" Heron asked.

Lightning laughed. "More so than you can know."

"But her shard," he said.

Lightning nodded.

"How?" Sparrow asked.

"I have a few ideas, but ask her," Lightning said, looking over at Dreaming Blue. "She knows."

Dreaming Blue did not defend herself, simply said, "Know is a strong word, suspected, have theories, those are closer to the truth. I have spoken to some of Saturn's Sidereals, and there are secrets involved."

"So share with us your theories," Lightning said, surprised by the anger in her tone, the desire she was feeling to take her warshape.

Dreaming Blue was watching her. "I suppose that we should have shared this information with the Lunars. You had the right to know."

"What about the Solar's right to know?" Ivory demanded.

Lightning ignored Ivory, relaxing, some of the anger ebbing. "Tell us."

Dreaming Blue waited a few moments, as if to collect her thoughts. "Several months after the Solars first started returning to Creation the first of the Abyssal Exalted was reported. A servant as such that the Deathlords had never before had, but then did, close on the heels of the Solars' return. Satrun's servants first suspected then. There has been much more evidence to make it almost certain, but, I have never seen anything I could accept as complete proof, until today I suppose."

"How does death co-opt the power of the Sun?" Heron asked.

"If Saturn's agents know they have not shared that information with me. But the Death Lords are powerful, and more powerful, though broken and mad, are their Neverborn masters."

"I don't care how they did it," Lightning told them. "I want to know how to fix it. I can't kill her while she is an Abyssal, so I need to make her a Solar again."

"What?" Dreaming Blue asked.

Lightning reached out and grasped Ivory by the shoulder, turning the girl to face her. "I need you to tell me how to make that happen."

"Oh," Ivory said.

"You can't ask her to do that," Darken Gray said.

Lightning looked at the god. "She is a Twilight."

Darken Gray frowned, but said nothing to that.

"I'll have to look at her shard," Ivory said.

"How do you plan to do that Golden Eyes?"

Ivory looked at Heron. "I think there is something in my manse that can help."

"You have a manse?" Sparrow asked.

"The Manse of the White Thorn. It's where Heron and I first met," she said, sounding smug.

"Where is it?"

"In the Scavenger Lands, near Great Forks. It's a tower."

"I don't care what is it," Lightning interrupted. "How soon can we get there?"

"A day or two with the Razor I guess."

Lightning was about to get to her feet but Heron said, "Wait a moment. We can leave soon enough, but there are things we need to discuss first."

She settled back into her chair. "Like what?"

"First of all, how did you come to take this Courtesan prisoner?"

"Fair enough." Lightning started the tale in Lookshy, when she had first seen Nihilistic Courtesan, their battle in Thorns, and then coming across the injured Abyssal after they had defeated the Mast of Winters. She ended with how she had had Courtesan imprisoned and how another death knight had come after her.

"After I saved her and dealt with the other Abyssal, apparently a woman named Faded Maiden, I made my way back here."

"So the Death Lords have sent assassins after Courtesan. Should we expect an attack here?" Sparrow asked.

"I don't know," Lightning admitted. "There have not been any other attacks, I've no reason to think anyone has been following us."

"She was fairly desperate to kill Ivory, was she not?" Heron asked.

"It seemed so," Lightning said.

Ivory nodded.

"But she's not now?"

"That is what she's said."

"And you believe her?"

Lightning paused, considering the question closely, the behaviour of Courtesan, what she had said and what Lightning had seen. "Yes."

"Why?" Heron asked. "Why was she driven to kill Ivory before and now is not? Why aren't there more assassins after her?"

"You do not understand your enemies," Dreaming Blue said.

Lightning looked over at the woman. "What do you know about it?"

"You are here to act as an advisor," Heron added.

Dreaming Blue said nothing for a time, as if thinking. "The Neverborn are insane," she finally said.

"They're crazy so that explains it all?" Lightning asked.

"Simplistic. Somewhat true, but simplistic."

"Make it complicated then," Lightning told her.

"The Neverborn could not die, but they were betrayed and killed. They are creatures who live in fear that something worse will happen to them, beyond Oblivion, which they seek. Their insanity is based on terror and paranoia."

Dreaming Blue looked around, as if waiting for anyone to continue for her.

"At Metagalpa, they became aware of Ivory, and for whatever reasons, sent Courtesan after her, but only Courtesan."

"Whatever frightened them, they wanted Ivory dead, but they did not want any of their other servants to know about that," Sparrow said, her tone suggesting she had understood. "In case they used whatever threat Ivory represents against them."

Dreaming Blue nodded.

"And now they don't want her to come after me cause of the attention it might draw," Ivory said.

"A theory," Heron replied.

"Fits the facts."

"I want to help Lightning," Sparrow said. "What do you need?" She looked over at Ivory.

"Just transport."

"There will be some work, to make sure the Ice Tree remains secure," Heron told them. "It will take about two days." He looked between Sparrow and Lightning.

"I can wait," Lightning said, though she would have preferred to be off immediately.

* * *

><p>Shortish chapter this time.<p>

Thank for the reviews, I appreciate knowing that people are reading. If you have any criticism, please let me know. Easier to correct and fix in the earlier stages.


	8. Intermission Players

**Intermission Players**

* * *

><p>Two bars of the soulsteel, matte and black like dark iron. The Shoat of Mire drew a bare finger down the length of one of the cold bars. The metal moaned under her finger as a single ghostly face rippled along its length.<p>

"Never seen anything like it," she said, and then giggled. "Guess they really hated him."

"Indeed," the master of the forge said. He was a nephwrack, powerful and insane as all the old ones tended to be.

"Where are they goin'" she asked, rubbing her hand on the second one, finding a certain delight in the sound it made.

The nephwrack did not answer as it looked down at her, the fire like light in the eye sockets growing with what Shoat could only think of as malevolent radiance.

The master of the forge, Shoat of Mire did not know its real name, hated her. She had learned that many of the old ghosts hated the Abyssals.

"Guess you don't know," she said. "Guess no one's gonna tell ya."

"They are still up for bidding," he said, goaded by her words. "There are several interested parties."

She looked back at the bars, at the single ghost within each. "Guess everyone really hates Heron." She paused, chewed on the nail of her thumb. "Or they really want some powerful soulsteel." Turning away from the steel she looked directly at the nephwrack. "Is my sword ready?"

He looked over at a nearby table, his only answer.

She left him to examine the table. A cloth of black silk covered the object which rested upon the surface. The Shoat of Mire pulled it free, revealing the grand daiklaive beneath. Longer than she was tall, wider than her hands placed together, thumb to thumb, within it hundreds of ghosts moved about, face prints and hand prints appearing and fading, like frost on a window.

Symmetrical, the edges not quite straight, gentle curves, about three quarters towards the tip the line cut in towards the centre, then out again, creating a vicious little notch on both sides. It ended in a triangular point. It was a brutal weapon, meant for little other than destruction. She loved it.

Her hand closed upon the hilt, and it was heavy, probably heavier than she, but the Shoat of the Mire fed her essence into the blade, which shrieked with the voices of the hundreds of ghosts imprisoned within. After several heartbeats she lifted it.

Taking it in a two handed grip she swung it about, getting a feel for it, then brought it down upon the table, shattering the wood with a single blow.

"It's name is..." the nephwrack said.

"It's name is Harlot's Fall, containing the ghost of two hundred and twenty five whores," Shoat of Mire sang. "Two hundred and twenty five, from the most refined courtesans to the most base sluts. Such a suitable gift for a child who will never grow up." She laughed and spun about, coming at the nephwrack, stopping the blade inches from his skull. "Shall they all be my aunties, whispering about the grownup pleasures I will never know?"

The nephwrack stepped back, staring at her. "They shall be what our mistress demands, and you and I shall be as well."

Shoat of Mire laughed again, swinging the huge blade around so it rested across her narrow shoulders, looking as if it should crush her. "Yes, yes, dear mommy will have her way, and I'll be happy." She took several graceful steps, as if the metal she carried had no weight. "Will she next have a new set of armour made from the ghosts of child rapists for me to wear?"

"No such orders have been given," the nephwrack said, "perhaps you will be sent out to gather such."

She laughed once more, and stepped back again, to look at the bars of soulsteel, to reach out and touch them. "I would far prefer a weapon or armour made from these two."

"Then you will be disappointed," the old ghost told her, obvious glee in his tone.

The Shoat of Mire giggled, then lashed out with her sword, turning the blade and shattering the lower left leg of the nephwrack, her essence flaring along the metal as it made the wound such that the ghost would never heal from.

It howled in pain and anger.

"Don't need a good leg to work the forge," she sang.

* * *

><p>The rulers of Lookshy had been flawlessly polite, and completely unhelpful. The Riders of Marukan had been openly hostile. The lands that had once been Thorns were tainted, had cost a few lives, and had revealed nothing.<p>

The result was that when they had come to Valley Water, tempers had been stretched thin. When a young man has asked them to leave the town and its people in peace, for the mercy of the Dragons, Deled had taken offence.

Citing the true meaning of the scripture of mercy, he had nearly beaten the man to death.

Anzar had watched without interfering, not that he had thought to stop Deled. In the weeks they had travelled together he had gone out of his way to avoid the direct attention of the Master of the Wyld Hunt.

Around them, watching the crowd, were Deled's monks, farther out, standing guard at all the ways in and out of the town, were the soldiers. No one had stepped forward to defend the young man until finally, certain that he would be killed, a young woman had thrown herself between Deled's blows and the bloody man. "Please," she had cried.

Deled wiped the blood from his hands and had asked, "Tell me of the Anathema."

Anzar looked around as several second passed, certain that Deled would make an example of another of the people there. It was what he would have done, had done, not so long ago. Would Heron Jade Eyes learn of this? The man terrified him, more than Deled did, but Deled was here. Proximity made a difference.

One of the main reasons he maintained a low profile was the hope that Heron Jade Eyes would not learn of the part that Anzar played in all this.

"No point in asking them," someone said from the back of the crowd. The crowd shifted, opening a path for an old man. One of the monks moved to intercept him, but a motion from Deled made the monk step aside.

He moved out of the crowd, took several steps closer, then lowered his head politely, a little stiffly, towards Deled.

"Speak," Deled ordered.

"We had rats and lice that the Mask of Winters," the man turned his head and spat on the ground, "sent here when he still lived." The man paused, as if thinking, then continued. "They were always apt to cause trouble, some got ideas above their station when they realized their master had been killed."

"Go on," Deled growled.

Anzar shared that anger. To mention the Mask as the man did, was to call attention to the fact that the Anathema ended that threat.

"Most of the folks here fled, and the rest ran when the Wyld Mutants came. No one was here when the," he paused again, "Anathema came."

"Except for you," Anzar said, louder than he had intended, and many glanced towards him.

"Wasn't about to leave my inn," he explained.

Another damn inn keeper, Anzar thought.

"Then you can tell me of the Anathema."

"Gave me a letter in case anyone came looking for them." He reached into his short jacket and removed a piece of folded paper.

Deled reached out and took it, unfolding the paper, looking over what was written within. He frowned. "Ragara," he said.

Anzar knew he was being called and stepped towards the large man.

He pushed the letter towards Anzar.

Anzar took it and read. It was written in several languages, the hand that had written it neat and elegant.

'_You have come to this innocent town, seeking us, and no doubt have caused harm. Be aware that you will be judged for that. If you still seek me and mine, then come to the North, and know that your grave will likely be in the ice that will be more forgiving than I. Ask for us, we are not cowering, our presence will be known._

_ Before you leave, if you have caused these people any harm, make recompense._

_ Heron Jade Eyes, Servant of the Unconquered Sun._'

"North," Deled said once he had seen Anzar had finished the letter.

"It's not a trick," Anzar said with certainty and fear.

Deled looked about scowling. "Sarracen," he called to one of his monks, "look to his injuries," his gaze shifted to the man he had nearly killed. "Let all know the Dragons are truly merciful."

A young looking man with skin the colour of a young yew tree, went to side of the injured man and began treatment.

"We will need passage," Deled called loudly. "Fast ships to take us to northwards. You will be paid well and we will be gone."

The town's people immediately began offering passage on various ships.

"Can I have that back," the old man said.

Anzar looked towards him. "What?"

"The letter, for the next hunters who come here."

Anzar looked at the letter for a moment, then gave it back to the old man.

As the old man walked away Anzar made his way to where Sarracen used his medical charms to heal the injured man. He took a pouch of silver from his belt pouch and knelt down, placing it near. "For expenses while recovering," he said, then straightened and walked after Deled.

"We shouldn't go," he said, and regretted the words the moment they had left his mouth. However he remembered the army of the dead that had been led to the Spire, and how they had been destroyed by vast explosions. He did not know how Heron and Sparrow had arranged that, but it made it clear as to the danger about attacking the Solars where they were ready.

"Why?" Deled asked, turning a hard set face towards Anzar, his posture and tone of voice making it obvious that the reason better be good.

"It is what the Anathema wants. It is something the Anathema believes will serve their needs."

"They are arrogant and foolishly think they can stand against the power of the Dragons."

Anzar wondered if Deled had forgotten the defeat that the Bull of the North had handed the Tepet legions. No, unlikely that he would have forgotten, just refused to see the full truth of it. But that was not something that he could say.

"Still, it would be better to bring the Anathema to us," he said, and then, with a flash of inspiration, "to where their defeat might be seen by many as opposed to some lonely place in the North. To some place where their poisoned words might be taking root."

Deled stopped, a thoughtful pose. "Do you know how we might bring the Anathema to such a place?"

"There is a village called Vinleau, the Anathema who has taken the appearance of the Peleps girl, she…" what? Cared for the people there? No. "…believes it belongs to her. If the true teachings of the Dragons were to be brought there…"

"How sure are you of this?" Deled asked him.

How sure? He really had no idea, but he recalled how the children had wanted to protect Ivory, had obviously cared for her. If they had cared that much for her, than Ivory must also care for them. "I am positive."

"I will think about this," Deled told him.

Anzar nodded. He felt safer at the thought of Heron and the others coming to them, to a place where the Wyld Hunt might be better prepared. However, he really hoped that the anger of the Solars might be directed at Deled, and in the coming conflagration of anger, vengeance and justice, the Master of the Wyld Hunt would take the brunt of it.

Anzar thought that would be his best chance to escape.

* * *

><p>The lands near the border of the Wyld were dangerous, populated by all kinds of strange creature, but profitable for those who knew them. Strange things grew and bred along the border, things that could be found no where else. Roses whose petals were a powerful aphrodisiac, mice whose flesh was as sweet as candy, grasses softer than silk and stronger than steel, among other things. The danger was, to many, commensurate to the profit that might be achieved.<p>

The hunting party moved along that border, seeking out the willowy trees on which apple sized fruit grew. Most of the fruits were red, or green, some blue, all deadly poisonous, too toxic to even risk touching. However, on some of the trees would grow a single, black fruit. Carefully, to avoid touching the leaves or the other fruit, the hunters would pick such a prize, wrap it in gauze, and slide it into a satchel.

One of those hunters was looking at his find, smiling, when he heard the sound of something moving, deeper into the forest, and the Wyld. With sure movements he wrapped the fruit and stored it, then pulled his bow free, stringing it, putting an arrow to the nock.

He had come deeper into the forest than was wise, seeking the fruit, and he took careful steps back, bow ready.

From ahead of him was movement, a black figure charging from the thick green.

He fired his arrow. The black iron head was turned by metal armour and went flying off into the forest.

The armoured figure was on him, huge axe knocking his bow aside, and gauntlet of moaning, black steel grabbing him by his leather shirt, pulling him close to a helm of the same metal.

The speaker demanded something of him, if a harsh, hard voice, in a language he did not understand. Another angry demand, again, with words that still meant nothing to him. Then again, but with the more common tongue of trade used in the scavenger lands, "Where am I?"

His eyes wide, he wondered how to answer that question. Finally he said, "Three days east of Kajeth."

"Kajeth? Damn the Courtesan and the Lunar," she said, and then more in a language he did not understand.

She let her axe fall and opened the lower part of her skull shaped helm. Her mouth was full of long teeth and he managed a short, strangled scream before they tore open his throat.

BREAKBREAKBREAK

Cold Rain had left his safe house in Soul's Lost, for he had not trusted Whispers of the Dead and her new master. He had fled Stygia, and then the Underworld itself, exiting through a small, forgotten shadowland, in a saltwater swamp, near the country of An Teng.

He had servants with him, to look after the animals that pulled the wagon in which his Monstance and his 'mother' rode. When he could he sheltered in small shadowlands, or in places of death, and when he could not he hunted the living to drink their essence.

On a night when he had found an old graveyard in which to shelter, where he might sit amongst death and feel comforted, he had a visitor.

She walked out of the gloom, a lissome beauty in a robe of black feathers.

Cold Rain climbed to his feet, reaching for his scythe.

As the woman came closer he saw her clearer and knew who she was. The scythe shook in his hands.

"So the First and Forsaken Lion has sent for me," he said, his voice breaking.

She moved, so fast he could hardly see it, and was in front of him. Her slap knocked him from his feet, had him lying in the dirt.

"Do not presume I would serve the Lion as a petty messenger, or even an assassin. I have come looking for you, Cold Rain, for my own purposes."

Cold Rain looked up at the Deathlord called Princess Magnificent with Lips of Coral and Robes of Black Feathers, also called the Black Heron. She was in service to the First and Forsaken Lion, a punishment for a failure long before. Cold Rain had heard she was not a willing servant.

"And what would your own purposes be, my lady the Black Heron?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and failing completely.

"On your feet," she ordered.

He got up slowly, cataloguing a number of small pains, but none serious.

She looked at him for several silent seconds. "I have need for a Death Knight," she said finally. "One whose loyalty, if not to me, is to none of the others."

He did not have to ask who those others were. Instead his question was, "And what is this need?"

She smiled and stepped closer to him. She truly was beautiful, though her head was too large and rounded for her body, and her haunting green eyes too large in her face. Odd things, but they only added to that otherworldly beauty. "I would have you go to the City of Chiaroscuro, I have interests that I must pursue there, but my last servant was recently defeated. Obviously I need a stronger representative."

"Defeated by who, or what?"

She smiled. "An Exalted, of course. Likely a powerful Terrestrial, or perhaps a Lunar who took an interest. The Nephwrack was in not shape to tell me much, and I destroyed it before it might compromise my interests."

There was a threat in that statement and Cold Rain doubted that refusal was an option. "And what would you have me do there?"

She smiled. "Not yet Cold Rain. You may think you are too far in, but the hook has not been set." She took a few steps away from him, looked him over. "You may run, and I will not follow, for I will not benefit unless you chose to help me. I ask you to think about it. I could be a powerful patron."

She looked about the graveyard, and then back at him, as if commenting on the state he had found himself in. "The Lion is a fool besotted with me." Her expression turned into a grimace of disgust that made her look quite ugly for a moment. "He does not look to closely at what I do, for fear of what he might find out. His resources are my resources, and they can be funnelled to you."

"It is an attractive offer," he said, not sure if it was.

"If you follow the coast, a day's walk from here, in a rocky bay, with two spires of stone at its mouth, you will find a ship. It will sail you to Chiaroscuro, should you chose to take up my interests. There is a man who will meet that ship, a necromancer of some skill. He will tell you what I seek to have done in the glass city."

"At which point, I am committed."

She nodded. "And I will not let you go until my business is complete."

"And how long might that take? Or is that something that the Necromancer will tell me, my Lady Black Heron." His tone was respectful, in case his question was impertinent.

She seemed to be in thought, a finger raised prettily to her chin. He wondered whether it was an affectation or a true habit, perhaps one from a life long ago. "A year I would think, if you apply yourself to the task."

"I will consider your kind offer," he told her, bowing.

"Please do. I leave you to your thoughts." She turned her back on him and walked away, slipping into the gloom as she had appeared.

Cold rain sat heavily on the ground, putting his palm to forehead. "What to do?" he asked, his voice soft and hardly carrying.

* * *

><p>"Gods and dragons damn you all to Lethe," Red snarled, her dire lance thrusting out, spearing the dead abomination through its chest.<p>

The huge creature stumbled, stunned, and around Red rushed mortal warriors, their weapons covered in prayer strips, who hacked at the giant of rotting flesh and blackened bone.

Red pulled her lance from the creature as it collapsed, falling under the slashing and hacking blades of the soldiers. She looked around, spotted Blue, surrounded by a shimmering, fiery light, wading in amongst the dead of Marama's Fell, her own dire lance of blue jade stabbing out with seemingly wild sweeps that felled her enemies.

Looking around, satisfied that the battlefield around her was, for the moment, subdued, Red took off a run to join her younger sister.

She reached Blue's side in time to add her red jade dire lance to Blue's blow, destroying another of the undead giants.

"How much are the Syndics paying for this?" Red asked Blue as they took up a stance, back to back.

"An obscene amount, as in we can pay for some very obscene things in the tea houses."

"Assuming we live," Red replied, watching as ghosts approached them. She and Blue had made themselves very obvious targets, with their animas flaring, and the halos of protective lights that burned around them.

"Course we're going to live."

"Kyzvoi," Red told Blue, spotting the large ghosts.

"Think Achiba is with them?"

"Think of what the Syndics would pay were we to end that one," Red laughed. "We won't see him today, but these have the look of his dogs."

"Then let's send him a message neesan." Blue leapt at one of the kyzvoi ghosts. Red followed suit. Their dire lances plunged into the bodies of powerful ghosts.

The two speared ghosts burst into flame, and around the two women the other ghost where suddenly surrounded by white, ghostly flames.

"In the name of the dragons," Blue called out.

"And in the name of the gods," Red answered.

The ghostly, white flames burst golden, and the ghosts screamed in pain, falling destroyed.

Red and Blue whipped their spears free of the dead and stepped away, once more back to back. No enemy rose up to engage them. Farther afield the soldiers they led were clearing the last of the dead.

"The dead will be quiet for a while."

"Guess what I heard neesan?"

Red smiled. "What news did Frog have to tell you?"

"He said the Sparrow Hawk is in the north."

"Did he say where?"

"He does not know yet, but he thinks she might be close to the Halsanti ."

"I hope you did not pay him too much for that information."

Blue laughed. "Don't worry, we need not deprive ourselves of any of our enjoyment."

"Good," Red said, and lowered her spear. "Dragons I could use a bath."


	9. The Caretaker and the Thorn

**The Caretaker and the Thorn**

* * *

><p>Lightning rode in the Razor's cargo hold, Nihilistic Courtesan across from her. They had been forbidden by Darken Gray from riding in the passenger section where Ivory was. Lightning did not think that Courtesan offered a real threat towards Ivory at the moment, but respected the god's request.<p>

The death knight had once more been clothed in a manner similar to when Lightning has first seen her. Black silk and lace, skirt puffed out by yards and yards of petticoats. Such clothing seemed to make her more comfortable.

The outfit had been made by Ivory, under Darken Gray's tutelage. Apparently the ability to design and make clothing had some value.

Darken Gray had also had Ivory work restraints into the clothing, both subtle and overt, all remarkably durable; some better suited to providing pleasure to the one restrained. When Lightning had commented on that the god had simply told her that there were times when a dynast needed to know things like that. Lightning supposed she had things to learn about the proper education of a young dynast, but she was not certain if she wanted to.

The quality of the restraints seemed to show in the times when Courtesan tried to move beyond their limits and was brought up short, surprised every time, as if she had forgotten them.

Courtesan had closed her eyes, kneeling on the floor, leaning against a bulkhead. She was not asleep. Probably she was just avoiding the need to talk, or having acknowledge Lightning. It was easier that way. When they talked, infrequent as it was, it was always an uncomfortable affair.

There was a sound, like something cracking, but before Lightning could give it any consideration Courtesan suddenly opened her eyes and gasped.

Shifting up onto her feet, in a ready crouch, Lightning asked, "What is it?" She was ready for violence, if that was what Courtesan planned. She felt the Razor slow and adjusted her weight to maintain her balance.

"The Whispers," Courtesan said, expression open with surprise, "they are gone. There is nothing."

Lightning waited a moment, watching Courtesan, then she reached out and keyed the intercom. "Sparrow, what is happening?"

After a moment Sparrow replied over the intercom, "We're approaching the tower, should be landing soon."

"Ivory," Lightning said, louder.

"What is it?" Her voice sounded distant, and she was shouting.

"That barrier your spoke of, it can keep all ghosts out?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Lightning said, softer, and then turned off the intercom. She looked at Courtesan. "It appears you are in one place where the dead hold no sway."

"There is no place like that," Courtesan said, but her eyes were wide, with fear or wonder Lightning did not know.

The Razor slowed more, and Lightning had to work to keep her balance and yet remain in a ready state. Courtesan continued to lean against the bulkhead, for the moment her thoughts obviously on something else.

Then the ship was down, settling onto its landing gear.

Lightning gathered up some of the gear from the hold, and then on a whim grabbed the case that held Courtesan's power bow. She got the death knight to her feet and was ready when the cargo bay door was opened by Sparrow. "So, why ask about the barrier?" Sparrow asked.

"She says she can no longer hear her dead masters."

"But she passed through it," Sparrow said as she reached up and took Courtesan's elbow, to help her down. The thin chain that bound her ankles made the step down difficult for the hobbled Death Knight.

"I think we knew she was not a ghost. Watch her."

Lightning walked around the Razor, her gaze shifting to the tower. It sat upon a series of concentric circles, that were like stairs that led up to the white stone. It was tall, and she could just make out a set of large, double doors. She looked away, towards Ivory, who stood with the others.

"Ghosts can't enter here."

"That's right."

"Just hungry ghosts within," Heron said.

"Hungry ghost aren't proper ghosts, they don't count." Ivory sounded a little defensive. "And they were already inside."

Lightning placed the bow case on the ground. "What about soulsteel?"

"Not sure," Ivory said, stepping closer.

Lightning popped the catches and flipped open the case. The steel of the bow had turned dull, and there were small cracks in the metal.

Ivory knelt down and looked at it. "Tore the ghosts right out, ruined it," she said sadly.

Heron moved close. "So no ghosts can enter here, and while death knights may, any soulsteel they will bring would be destroyed. I think I can understand why these Neverborn would see Ivory as a threat."

Lightning closed the case on the ruined bow.

"Could you replicate this effect?" Dreaming Blue asked Ivory.

"Probably," Ivory said. "Maybe."

"Bring Courtesan," Lightning called out. "Let's do what we came here for."

Lightning took the steps three at a time and in a moment reached the top one. She paused, looking down at a patten of gold, silver and jade, similar to what marked the doors. She reached out and pushed one of the portals.

They did not move.

"I'll open them," Ivory said, running up the stairs.

"Hold," Darken Gray said, grasping Ivory's shoulder. "What protection will we find within?"

"There was a demon," Ivory said. "Well, lots, progeny of Darengest, but Darengest was here the last time."

"Darengest?" Dreaming Blue and Darken Gray spoke almost in unison.

"She's gone now. Dismissed," Ivory told them.

Darken Gray released her hold on Ivory. Ivory continued to the doors and, with the light of her caste mark, unlocked them. The doors opened on a large chamber a single door on the far wall, a sarcophagus in the middle of the room. It was dark, for the sun was still high up and did not shine directly through the doors. Ivory walked in confidently, and from the bag she carried she took out a light rod that lit up the room.

The others followed in behind them. Lightning paused to look down at the sarcophagus, and the relief carving of a beautiful woman.

Ivory had passed her and stood near the other door.

"You don't know what is beyond that door, do you," Heron said.

"No," Ivory said.

"Sparrow, we'll take point," Heron said. "Hu can watch Ivory, Lightning can keep on eye on Courtesan."

"I am pretty sure that we will be okay," Ivory said as she turned her caste mark to the door and unlocked it.

* * *

><p>Once the door had opened Heron waited for Sparrow to take the lead, then followed up behind her. He had been curious as to what had lain behind the door, but that moment was not the best to be satisfying his curiosity, so he focused on the immediate area around the door.<p>

Sparrow had already moved several steps farther into the room, her gaze shifting left and right, up and down, trusting Heron to watch her back.

"Looks clear," she said.

"Ivory?"

"I think it should be safe."

A voice, deceptively soft, said, "I am the Caretaker of this place. My Twilight has returned."

"Ivory?"

"Caretaker, I don't see it as being bad." He heard her step beyond the door.

"With pleasure I recognize you Twilight," the Caretaker said. "Please inform me of how you wish to be addressed."

"My name is is Ivory. Peleps Ivory."

"Weclome Lady Peleps."

"No," Heron heard Darken Gray say. "Lady is not an appropriate title." No surprise that the governess would say something like that.

"She's probably right," Ivory said, regretfully. "Call me Ivory."

"Very well Ivory. Standard protocols are in place. You have with you two other Solar Exalts, one Lunar Exalt, One Sidereal Exalt, two gods, and an unknown. Will scan exterior of crater momentarily. Shall I upgrade to threat protocol and kill the Sidereal?"

"Kill the Sidereal?" Dreaming Blue seemed surprised.

"No," Ivory said. She paused, humming softly. "Can I tell you who my guests are and who you should keep an eye on?"

Heron wondered exactly what the Caretaker was, and while Ivory had entered into what seemed a pleasant enough conversation with it, he was watching, not quite ready to relax.

"Of course Ivory," the Caretaker replied, to Heron's ears almost sounding miffed.

"Then Heron and Sparrow, the Solars, uh, Sparrow is in the lead, are guests. Both gods Hu and Darken Gray... Hu is the tiger, are guests. The Lunar, Lightning, is a guest. The unknown in a prisoner, her name is Courtesan. The Sidereal is called Dreaming Blue, she's... um, well..."

"Might I suggest you define her as an unproven threat?" the Caretaker said. "She will be given limited guest privileges, until she is a proven threat, at which point threat protocols come on line."

"That sound good. Dreaming Blue is an unproven threat."

"Status confirmed. Welcome to the White Thorn. I am afraid that there has been some degradation in manse's structure and function over the centuries. I was in a hibernation state and that limited the self repair systems. Are there systems you need immediately Ivory?"

"I need to examine the essence flows and shard structure of Courtesan."

"The Medical facilities are fully operational. Please follow the sprite."

A small ball of light blossomed into existence not too far in front of them, bobbed in the air, floated some distance away and then stopped.

"The sprite I take it," Sparrow said.

"Ivory," Darken Gray said, "do you remember this Caretaker?"

Hu growled. Heron looked back to see Ivory looking between the two before she said, "It won't hurt us. Let's go."

He suspected that Hu's advice had won the day, and he was not certain how he felt about that.

"So we follow the sprite," Sparrow said as she started forward.

Decision made Heron went next, behind him Hu and Darken Grey watched over Ivory as Lightning watched over Courtesan.

The room was large, sparse, but beautiful, with gold inlay in the walls; a central staircase led up to the next level. Heron followed Sparrow up those stairs, into the next level. He was struck be a feeling that the interior of the manse was perhaps larger than the exterior could explain. Certainly the tower was large, and it might just be clever design creating an illusion of space, but he would not bet on it.

They passed through several workrooms where tools still hung in racks, most in excellent condition, some having succumbed to time's corrosive effects. Through arches he saw a dining room, grand in its construction, with a huge chandelier of crystal and gold hanging over what he thought was once a wooden table, and now gone to collapse and ruin.

Another set of stairs took them to a smaller area, through a door that Ivory unlocked with her caste mark, into what looked like a hospital, though Heron had never seen such medical devices before.

The sprite drifted through the area, towards an open door of a brightly lit room.

"This is the essence research chamber," the Caretaker announced as soon as Ivory crossed the threshold. "All systems are powered up and ready for you Ivory."

Heron directed Ivory to the far side of the room, away from the door and Courtesan who followed. One side of the room contained a block of white jade, about four feet by eight feet on the top, probably four feet high. Its exterior and top were covered by gold and silver and green jade inlay, none of which he suspected was decoration.

Around the walls were various cabinets and control panels. On the ceiling were nodules, half circles of white and red and blue jade.

"On the altar?" Lightning asked.

"Examination table," Ivory said from where she looked at the controls. The voice of the Caretaker was soft as it spoke in hushed tones to Ivory.

"It looks like an altar," Heron said, and hoped Courtesan did not think of sacrifices. The death knight had been co-operative so far, and he did not want to have to fight her now.

At Lightning's guidance, and with her help, she got on the table, and then lay back.

The silver, moonsilver, on the table rose up from the channels on the table and flowed over her wrists and ankles, another steam across her hips, securing her to the table top.

"Is this necessary?" Courtesan asked, giving her wrist a gentle tug. She sounded quite composed, all things considered.

"The process requires you remain still," the Caretaker said, "and you are a prisoner."

"Are we ready to go?" Lightning asked.

"Caretaker, give me a model to work with," Ivory said.

Courtesan gasped as from her body rose another, ghost like, Courtesan, floating in the air above her.

"What in the Wyld is that?" Lightning asked, taking a step back from the table.

* * *

><p>"It's an image, made of essence," Ivory said as she moved into the part of the room opposite to the examination table. Her caste mark had grown brighter as she powered the equipment with her own essence.<p>

Everyone seemed to accept that answer, for there were no more questions. Ivory made a beckoning gesture with her fingers and the image floated over to her. "Are there any foreign bodies with in her?" Ivory asked.

"None," the Caretaker answered.

"Remove skin, muscle and bone," Ivory said, making a pulling gesture with her hand.

The image was just organs, arteries and veins, floating in the shape or a person. She looked about, finger gestures caused parts of the image to grow larger as the rest faded out, giving Ivory closeups of what she wanted to look for.

"What are you doing?" Lightning asked.

"Just making sure there is nothin' hiding inside."

"That was what the Caretaker told you."

"Excuse me for wanting to see for myself," she said tartly.

"Ivory," Darken Gray said in warning.

Ivory did not respond to that, instead saying, "Remove all organic matter, display essence flows."

The complex arrangement of vessels and organs faded away, leaving an equally complex pattern of black lines that looked like trapped smoke. Courtesan let out a sharp gasp.

"Essence feedback can cause some discomfort, but no real damage is done," the Caretaker announced before anyone asked.

"Some discomfort?" Courtesan said softly between deep breaths.

Ivory ignored her as she used sweeping gestures of her hand to search the image, her caste mark grew brighter on her forehead. She stooped and a moment later expanded a specific area, revealing a void. "What's there?"

"Unable to display," The Caretaker explained. "There is no metaphor available."

Ivory reached up to turn the image back and forth, looking at the void from all angles, as if something might appear. Courtesan occasionally made a sound of discomfort, but Ivory did not concern herself with that.

"Can you put a Devonian filter on this?" Ivory asked as she fed more essence into the system.

The black lines suddenly changed to white and the void became a sphere of light. Ivory wiped at her forehead with the sleeve of her blouse and stared at the image for several seconds. "Good."

"What a Devonian filter?" Sparrow asked.

"A school of sorcery," Ivory told her. "Give me a necromantic filter."

"Necromancy of any sort is not allowed within the area controlled by the manse," the Caretaker said.

"Countermand."

"Impossible."

Ivory bit at her lower lip. "We'll try a Salinan filter then."

The lines of essence grew less distinct, but the sphere began to randomly change shape in a series of slow pulses.

Courtesan gasped with each pulse.

Ivory tried different filters, tried combinations of them, mixing different schools, asking for lenses. The Caretaker gave her everything she requested, as long as Ivory kept essence flowing into the device. Sometimes Courtesan would cry out in pain, making Ivory flinch slightly.

The golden light of her anima had become a bonfire around her, and still she had not found a solution. She was breathing heavily, like she had run a great distance, and her clothing stuck to her with sweat.

"Ivory, you have to stop," Darken Gray said.

"Not yet, I almost have it. What's the oldest school of sorcery we have available?"

"I have records of the Lintha practices of Primordial worship, as well as information on Aluan spirt beckoning."

"Can you create a filter based on the Aluan?"

"Of course."

"Please do so."

Ivory's anima went iconic, the circles of scrolls surrounding her. Courtesan screamed. The shape that had not been defined changed, to a golden rose surrounded by a cage of black thorns.

"Ah," Ivory said.

Behind her she heard Lightning saying something, but she was not listening, her heart was beating loud in her ears.

She reached out towards the rose, as if to grasp it, but suddenly pulled her hand back, a small drop of blood on her finger.

Courtesan screamed again.

"Enough," Ivory said, staring at the drop of blood on her finger. "Caretaker, shut it down."

The image hanging in the air disappeared.

"I thought that was just an image," Lightning said.

Ivory was looking at the blood on her finger. "It was."

"Then why..."

"Sometimes metaphor hurts."

Darken Gray stood in front of her. She took Ivory's hand in hers and then lowered her head, putting Ivory's injured finger in her mouth, gently sucking on it.

"No poisons or contaminants," she said once she took the finger from her mouth.

Ivory looked over her shoulder at the others. Lightning stood over Courtesan, the Death Knigh looking to be as wasted as Ivory felt. "Caretaker, do we have," she paused in thought, "a stasis chamber that we can put her in?"

"Stasis chamber?" Lightning asked at the same time the Caretaker replied "Yes."

"It is like sleep," Ivory said, "but not. Really, it just freezes someone in time. They don't dream or anything."

"I think she might like that," Lightning said after a moment.

Darken Gray had taken a cotton strip from somewhere and was wrapping Ivory's finger. "The Caretaker can show you where the chamber is, and will help you put her into it," Ivory said.

"Right." Lightning gathered up Courtesan's limp body from the table, the restraints releasing her.

As Darken Gray finished off dressing the small wound Heron asked, "What have we learned?"

"I need some time to think about it," Ivory told him. "A few hours."

Heron nodded. "Then Sparrow and I can unload some supplies from the Razor, unless you have food here?" He looked up, though he had no idea where the caretaker really was.

"I am afraid that maintaining such supplies would have been a waste of power. Clean water and heat is available," the Caretaker told him.

"We have a library here, right?" Ivory asked.

"Of course," the Caretaker said. When ever it said 'of course' Ivory felt there was a judgement in the tone.

"Show me to it." She looked over at the Sidereal who stood off to the side of the room. "Will you come with me Dreaming Blue?"

Dreaming Blue nodded after a moment. "Yes."

* * *

><p>"So there are angry ghosts out there?" Sparrow said, staring out at the forest.<p>

"Not as many as there used to be," Heron said from within the Razor, "but yes." He leaned out of the hatch and handed Sparrow down a duffle bag. She took it and placed it with two other similar bags.

"If Ivory ever plans to make more use of this place she will have to deal with them."

Heron shifted back into the Razor to retrieve another bag of supplies. "As long as she is going to stay in the tower I don't think she needs to care."

She looked up towards Heron, who was perched on the edge of the hatchway, leaning into the ship, found herself staring up at his slim legs and bottom. It was, she thought, a pleasant view, much better than looking at a forest full of ghosts.

Heron straightened, stood at the top of the hatch, looking down at her.

Sparrow felt her cheeks grow warm, but not terribly so. It was not the first time she had been caught staring at an attractive man's backside.

Heron smiled and handed the last bag down. He reached in and pulled the hatch shut, then locked it. "We should make sure the Razor is properly sealed up." He slid smoothly down the ladder. "The ghosts aren't going to be able to do anything destructive unless they could get inside." He grabbed the ladder and pushed it up until it locked smoothly and seamlessly with the hull.

They walked around the Razor, testing hatches to make sure she was secured. Sparrow was a bit distracted, most of the time focused on Heron. This was one of the few times they had been alone in a relatively peaceful situation since they had first met.

"Are you attracted to me?" she asked him as he checked the last hatch.

Heron turned towards her, looked at her for a few seconds. "Do you mean would I be attracted to you if there was not a bond between the power we have inherited?"

"Yes, no, both."

Heron looked at her thoughtfully. "You are attractive, smart, strong enough that you could captain an airship even before you were chosen. Had we met, I think I would have found you," he paused, "interesting. Where that interest would lead, who knows."

He did not ask if she were attracted to him, but Sparrow felt he deserved an answer. "I think I would have thought you too pretty, too perfect, once I found out your gender. I think I would have chosen not to take a chance." She laughed. "I might have fantasized about you afterwards."

Heron smiled, perhaps a little sadly. "I have heard that before."

Sparrow, feeling daring at the moment, took a step forward, gently ran her fingers down his shoulder, let her fingers run through his long, black hair that hung freely down his back. "I want more than just a fantasy," she said, surprising herself. "It doesn't matter if these feelings had their start in some other person's life, they've grown to something more for me."

Heron did not move, as if he understood the fine balance that Sparrow was trying to maintain. This closeness, it still scared her, even as she desired it. She took a half step forward, tilted her head up, raised her heels, and brushed her lips across his.

His lips, his face, were softer and smoother than any man's she had ever kissed before, there was a subtle hint of some perfume or cologne about him. For all that prettiness and softness, she knew his core was like folded metal; hard and flexible.

Her hand lifted rom his arm, she placed her palm on his chest, drew it down across the silk tunic he wore, feeling the lean muscle underneath.

She wanted more, but was not ready for it, and she would be a tease to take it further. She stepped back.

Heron only smiled at her, as if to let her know he would let her set the pace.

"Thank you," she told him.

"Let's get things into the tower. We still have a few hours before the sun goes down, we can take a look around the perimeter just to be sure angry ghosts are the only problem we need to worry about."

"Good idea," Sparrow said, happy to move things back to business. For the moment.

* * *

><p>"The chamber is prepared, please put the prisoner inside."<p>

Lightning took the still senseless Courtesan and placed her into the chamber. It looked a little like an upright coffin, though it was made of clear crystal, and the soft padding of the interior was more like some wonderful bed that moulded itself to the occupant.

"What happens if she is left here?" Lightning asked.

"The chamber uses little power. There is no reason I cannot keep her in stasis for as long as the manse stands," the Caretaker answered.

"Just like time stands still?"

"Exactly. Please step back while I close the chamber."

Lightning moved back. The top of the chamber swung down to seal Courtesan in. There was a soft flash of golden light within, and soft, blue lights lit up long the sides.

"She is in stasis," the Caretaker said.

Lightning stepped close to the chamber, looked at the motionless Courtesan within. "Do you know anything about the bond between Solars and Lunars?"

"I have a great deal of written information about the nature of the bond, and I was witness to the relationship between the Twilight Lady who ruled here and her Lunar Consort."

"What was that relationship like?"

"Distant. The Lady wanted a mate to give her strong children and had little time for the Consort beyond that."

"But not all relationships were like that?"

"No."

Lightning thought about Redigost and what he had said about the Solar who had once held Sparrow's shard. "Really, keeping her on ice forever has a certain appeal."

The Caretaker did not answer.

* * *

><p>The library seemed more a solarium, with what seemed like windows that illuminated the room with a light like sunlight.<p>

Ivory was looking at the few bookshelves, and the books within them. "These all need to be repaired," she said.

"Copies of those books and the majority of the library are kept within my memory," the Caretaker said.

"How does that work?" Ivory asked.

"I transfer the contents of any required book to one of the many crystal readers. The readers can be used anywhere in the tower. This is less a library and more a reading room."

"Do you have every book from the first age?" Dreaming Blue asked from the centre of the room.

"No. I have books that directly related to the Twilight Lady's interests and needs."

"How many books?" Ivory asked.

"Six million, four hundred and sixty thousand, three hundred and twenty seven. Those include essays and other similar documents that might not be considered true books."

Ivory smiled and then looked at Dreaming Blue. "Tell the Caretaker and I about the Abyssals. Feel free to repeat anything you might have already told me." Ivory walked over to a small couch, gave it a shake, then took a seat. There was a soft cracking sound, but the couch held.

Hu, who had stood near the windows, walked over to where Ivory sat and lay down on the floor near her.

Dreaming Blue tested a few other seats and found them lacking, weak with age, but the chair behind the desk and the desk itself seemed solid enough. She took a seat, the windows behind her. She took a moment to suppose that desk, library and manse were hers and what she might do with them, then pushed those thoughts aside as unproductive and a little envy making.

"There were at least nine Deathlords who claimed dominion over the Underworld, but you destroyed the Mask of Winters and apparently the one called Eye of Seven Despairs was killed by his own servants. Most of Creation did not know of their existence, until the Mask of Winters made his play, but they schemed for Creation's destruction."

Dreaming Blue paused, waiting to see if Ivory would ask any questions. When it became clear that she was willing to listen the Sidereal continued. "It was soon after we realized that the Solars had returned that we learned that the Deathlords had new servants. Abyssals. Five castes, with blood marks that matched those of the Solars. They were more powerful than the servants that the Deathlords had fielded in the past, significantly more effective. The fall of Thorns was an example."

"How many Sidereals really believe that the Abyssals are corrupted Solars?"

Dreaming Blue wondered at the question, and gave it some thought before answering. "Most of Saturn's I would think, as for the others, it would depend on how much study they gave them. Most suspect. Some might not want to believe."

Ivory leaned forward, the couch beneath her cracked and sagged slightly. "Why don't they want to believe?"

Dreaming Blue blinked, almost swore aloud. The child had played her.

"That is not important," she said.

"Might it be guilt?" Ivory asked.

"I am not going to answer that question with supposition."

Ivory smiled, as if she had the answer she wanted. "Caretaker, do you have anything that correlates with what she has told us?"

"The Black Mirror."

"Tell me about it," Ivory said.

"The nature of the artifact was highly classified."

The smile on Ivory's face seemed out of place on a child. "Which the previous holder of my shard should not have known about."

The Caretaker was silent.

"You can tell me later," Ivory said, which annoyed Dreaming Blue. "There is precedent for the concept of a corrupted Solar?"

"Yes."

"Permanent?"

"No."

Ivory nodded and jumped to her feet. The couch, pushed past its limits, collapsed. "We can fix Courtesan," she said.

Dreaming Blue wanted to know how, but only nodded, not certain if Ivory even had an answer yet.

* * *

><p>There are of course some nods to Robert Downey's Iron Man in here.<p>

Music Ideas

White Lightning by Danny Michelle for Lightning and Courtesan

Alice by Aviril Lavigne for Ivory

I am always happy to hear constructive criticism. The earlier I learn of issues the easier it is to address them. And if you know anyone who might like this story, let them know, the mature rating is probably keeping some people from finding it.


	10. The Story of Ozaki the Wolf

**The Story of Ozaki the Wolf**

* * *

><p>Ivory had locked herself into the library to do some research, so she said, leaving everyone else to wait. They had prepared a meal from the supplies they had brought in and afterwards Heron had taken some time to look at the guest room that had been provided. While the furniture had deteriorated to the point where most of it was unusable, the bathroom's porcelain and adamant construction had stood against time.<p>

The shower he had allowed himself was long and hot, the water clean.

Afterwards he had had taken the time to brush and comb out his hair, running conditioning oils through it, a task in itself, before dressing.

When he went to the library he found the door open. Lightning was already there, sitting on the floor, her back against a wall, while Ivory sat the room's desk, dwarfed by its proportions, a crystal reader in her hand. Hu lay in front of the desk, looking as if he were about to fall asleep.

"Where's everyone else?" Heron asked.

"Darken Gray has gone to get Sparrow and Dreaming Blue," Lightning said. "They should be here soon. You cleaned up."

"I don't often get a chance to take a shower."

"I suppose."

He walked over to Lightning, lowered his voice, "You spent your time staring at Courtesan."

Lightning did not deny, simply shifted and shrugged her shoulders.

There was a sound of something sliding over the floor, and the sharp reports of metal banging. Heron looked away from Lightning, saw Hu already on his feet, padding towards the door. He followed, looked as well, saw Darken Gray and the others approaching, carrying, or dragging, several chairs and a bench, made of adamant, or some other long lasting material.

He stepped out to lend a hand and soon they had a place to sit for everyone, except Hu of course. Ivory put the crystal reader into a rack near the desk and pulled the seat around, a wheeled, heavy chair, that creaked softly when she climbed back into it.

"The changes made to the exaltation to create and Abyssal can be undone," Ivory told them.

"How?" Lightning asked.

"I don't know."

"You said..." Lightning began.

"I didn't say that I could undo it," Ivory interrupted. "Yet at least," she added, seeming to become aware of the hardening of Lightning's gaze. "It would take me decades of research to get to the point where I could try it."

Lightning waved her hand. "What about everything in here?"

Dreaming Blue spoke. "Researching exaltations was considered to be in bad taste at the very least. It was considered something of a blasphemy in the First Age, as they were gifts from the gods."

"Right," Ivory said. "Not to say that they didn't do it, just that they didn't write much about it. Least not for public consump'n."

"Consumption," Darken Gray said, pronouncing the word clearly.

"I don't think we have decades."

"Yeah, probably not. So we need to find someone who already knows it all."

"Sidereals?" Sparrow asked.

"Unlikely," Dreaming Blue answered and Ivory said, "Nope." At nearly the same time.

"Let's not play a guessing game," Lightning said, almost growling.

"There are three I can name," Ivory said. "The Neverborn could do it if they chose, which they wouldn't. That leaves Authocthon or the Unconquered Sun."

"Authocthon?"

"He helped to make the exaltations," Ivory said.

"He has also been missing from Creation for a very long time. You will find nothing of value pursuing that avenue," Dreaming Blue told her.

"So that leaves the Unconquered Sun."

"You might as well try to find Autochthon, or convince the Neverborns to help you then," Dreaming Blue told Ivory, perhaps a bit more scorn in her tone than was really deserved.

"Why?" Heron, Ivory and Lightning asked at nearly the the same time.

Dreaming Blue looked suddenly ill at ease to be under such scrutiny. Heron wondered if she had not meant to speak.

"It has been a very long time since the Unconquered Sun has left the Jade Pleasure Dome," she said. "And there is no reason to expect he will leave in the decades you'd need to study this."

"So we just go in the Jade Pleasure Dome and talk to him," Ivory said.

Heron shifted his gaze towards both Hu and Darken Gray even as he said, "No Exalt is allowed within the Jade Pleasure Dome. Ever."

"How did you know that?" Dreaming Blue asked him.

"I know many things."

"He's got to come out sometime," Ivory said.

"No." Dreaming Blue turned her attention back to Ivory.

"What if you stood outside of it calling his name?"

"You would be part of a crowd," Dreaming Blue told her snidely.

"Sent him a letter?"

"There are departments dedicated to cataloguing the unanswered correspondence that has been sent to the Incarnae."

Ivory frowned. "How can that even work?"

"The departments and bureaucracies that were designed and implemented are very efficient," Dreaming Blue told her. "It all functions without direct oversight."

"So the Unconquered Sun just doesn't leave?"

Dreaming Blue nodded.

"Surely he must get bored," Sparrow said.

Heron was still watching Hu and Darken Gray, furtive glances, to measure their body language, the small tells that both gods had and probably did not know.

"Apparently not," Dreaming Blue answered Sparrow.

"Who else can we go to? Who else will know what you need?" Lightning stood and came to loom over Ivory.

Ivory shifted back in her chair. "I'm... I'm not sure," she stammered. "Maybe the other Incarnae."

"Who probably play these games as well." Lightning looked over at Dreaming Blue.

"Yes, though Luna and the Maidens do exit, from time to time."

Lightning returned her gaze to Ivory. "Would they understand a Solar exaltation as well as the Unconquered Sun? Assuming we could even speak to them?"

"I don't know."

Lightning turned away from Ivory, walking back to her seat. "Hopeless."

Ivory jumped from her chair. She looked angry. "Well if we need the Unconquered Sun we can..."

"Enough," Heron said, his voice loud and carrying and cutting Ivory off.

Everyone in the room stared at him.

"Dreaming Blue, you may leave. The gods as well."

"What?"

"As you wish," Darken Gray said. "Ivory, please behave."

Hu got to his feet, looked towards Ivory, and then padded from the room.

Heron looked at Dreaming Blue, then the door. "Please."

"Very well," she said, turning sharply, almost tripping, then stalking from the room.

Heron walked to the door and closed it. "I don't want anyone listening to us."

"Caretaker, can you ensure we have privacy."

"Of course Ivory."

"I want the Caretaker gone as well."

"Why?" Ivory asked.

"I do. Is it possible?"

"Caretaker?"

"It is possible. I can cut this room off from my awareness. I would rather not." Something in that tone suggesting distress,

Ivory looked to Heron, eyes entreating.

"I want complete privacy."

Ivory nodded. "Please Caretaker."

"Very well. You will have to exit this room to request my attention." It paused. "Please be as quick as you can, I do not like being unaware of any part of the manse."

"Thank you," Ivory said. She looked at Heron. "Satisfied?" There was a hint of bitterness in her tone, of a child denied.

Heron ignored the bitterness and said, "Caretaker?"

There was no answer.

"We will have to assume we can trust the Caretaker to its word." He walked over to Ivory, standing above her in the same manner that Lightning had. "Now, what stupid thing were you about to say before I interrupted you?"

Ivory looked shocked, and angry. "Stupid?"

"Stupid. What was it?" He leaned forward.

Ivory shifted back in her chair. "Nothing."

"Ivory." He raised his voice.

"Heron, what are you doing?" Sparrow asked, she had got from her chair and moved closer, as if ready to stop Heron.

He did not answer her, his gaze fixed on Ivory. "You were about to say something along the lines of destroying the games, kicking over the board, that sort of thing, were you not?"

She frowned, looking angry, petulant. "So. Why not?"

Heron straightened, sighed louder than he intended. "Your governess is the goddess of spanking and you still seem intent on seeking to anger the adults."

"She's the goddess of Corporal Punishment," Ivory said defensively.

"Why don't we just knock over the board?" Sparrow asked.

Heron looked towards her. The surprise he felt must have shown on his face.

"I am not saying that we do it, I just need to know why we don't."

Heron looked around, Sparrow and Lightning obviously curious, Ivory pouting (though he supposed it was unfair to think of it like that). He returned to his seat. "Were you watching Hu or Darken Gray?"

It was a question that seemed to catch them all off guard, for none of them answered in the positive.

"I was, and both were disturbed when we started talking about the games, and most of their concern was directed at Ivory."

"Why?" Lightning asked him.

"Because they both know her well enough to guess where her thoughts might go, and that she might voice them worried, maybe even scared them."

"In case Dreaming Blue found out?" Sparrow asked.

"Did you see how fast they left? It was in case they found out."

More surprise from all of them, then thoughtful looks.

"I know only a little about the Games of Divinity," he said, carefully, slowly. "That is the way that I think is the best, but there are those who believe that the gods chose to lead a revolt against the Primordials so as to get control of those games. Assuming that there is any truth in that belief, how do you think they would react to the news an Exalted was considering damaging them?"

The anger seemed to leave Ivory, and she had the decency to looked chagrinned. "Oh," she said, and then, "but I didn't know."

"More reason for you not to speak of it then," he told her.

"Ivory is right then," Lightning said, "if we want an audience with the Unconquered Sun, the game must stop."

"They would not thank us for that. They would kill us, possibly anyone we ever cared for, and anyone they ever cared for, and so on, until Creation was a Charnel house."

"Then what do we do?" It was Sparrow who asked.

Heron steepled his hands, and put them in front of his face, as if praying. "Have you ever heard the stories of Ozaki the Wolf?"

"No," Sparrow said, and neither Lightning nor Ivory voiced an opinion.

"He's a folk hero of sorts, from the Scavenger Lands. Ozaki the Wolf, a hero who took wealth from the greedy, and shared some of it with the poor. He tweaked the noses of the people in power, in the ways that the common folk could only dream of. There are probably hundreds of stories about him, or someone similar enough that their story could become Ozaki's."

Heron lowered his hands, leaned back. "The stories usually end with Ozaki taking whatever riches his last adventure left him with and going to gamble. Then the next story would start with him having gambled away his wealth and setting out on a new adventure.

"However, there is a story, that tells how members of the Guild, and others who had suffered at Ozaki's hands, sought to end his threat. They had tried assassins and other means of violence, but Ozaki was said to be a powerful warrior and master strategist, and none of those means had worked. This time a clever Guild factor suggested another way to deal with the collective thorn in their sides.

"Ozaki the Wolf was of no problem when he gambled, for he never left the casinos and other gaming houses. So, this factor suggested that they keep him there. It did not take much, a small bag of silver when Ozaki would have otherwise been bust, to keep him in the game. And he was a skilled enough gambler, though one who had never learned to walk away from the table, that only a small bag at a time was ever needed.

"Months would pass, with Ozaki never coming from the casino, and those that had been his targets were left to go about their business unmolested. It was at this time one of his daughters saw what the Guild was up to, and she planned to save her father from himself.

"Of course when she went into the casino and tried to talk to him he would not listen, and she could not stop the Guild from keeping the games going. She tried several strategies to get her father away from games, but none of them worked. Finally she went in search of Plentimon, the god of gambling."

Heron paused, wishing he had a glass of water. The others were patient, waiting, Ivory leaning forward near the edge of her seat. He smiled and then continued. "The story is long about her seeking out Plentimon, but she eventually stood before him and made her request. She said to him, I ask that you curse Ozaki the Wolf so that he will always break even, never knowing the joys of victory or defeat.

"I suppose for Plentimon it might have been something of a novel request, so he granted it to her.

"It did not take long for Ozaki to realize the game had changed. There was no longer the highs of a winning streak, nor the lows of losses. I suppose it became boring, because even though he still had a fortune, he left the casino of his own accord.

"Eventually he would find Plentimon and have the curse removed, which is another story on its own."

"It sounds as if you are planning on fixing the game," Sparrow said to him.

"The interesting this about the Ozaki story is that he did not get angry, at either Plentimon nor his daughter. They had not taken anything from him, he had not really been cheated. In some respects they left him better off than he might have been. They just made it less fun."

"And you think the gods might react the same way?"

"I don't know. They might still kill us for this, but I like our chances better."

"Do you know how to fix this game?" Lightning asked him.

"Not a clue."

She looked at Ivory. "And you?"

"I did not know these games even existed until recently."

"So do we need to get the Unconquered Sun to tell us how to do this?" she demanded, angrily.

"No," Heron said. "I already know where to get the answers on how we might fix the game. The Malfeans. They created it."

Sparrow frowned, and Lightning looked, well, perhaps horrified, but Ivory jumped from her chair. "We are going to Malfeas?"

"You can't go there," Lightning told him, standing.

"In fact, I can. Out of all of us, I am the safest there. They cannot touch an Eclipse operating on official business. That extends to those on my diplomatic mission."

The Lunar frowned, but said, "You trust that?"

"Completely."

She sat down. "I don't like it."

"I understand, and I am not asking you to go. I will only take Ivory with me."

"Good," Ivory said as Sparrow said, "She's a child."

"Hey!" Ivory exclaimed.

"She's the one of us most likely to make sense of what we could learn."

"It seems wrong."

"I won't argue it."

"I want to go," Ivory said.

"She wants to go," Heron told Sparrow.

"She would. Fine. What will Lightning and I be doing?"

"I have no plans for the short term. In the long term I need you to get invitations to the Calibration Celebration in Yu-Shan."

"How?"

"Ask for them," Lightning said. "Mention it to Dreaming Blue or Darken Gray, or just stand somewhere and yell that you want an invitation. You helped defeat a Death Lord. There are gods who want to talk to you." She paused. "As for me, I can't stay still. If there are people hunting Courtesan I need to be on the move."

"It sounds like I am to be left alone at the Ice Tree."

Heron looked towards Sparrow. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I am not complaining. There are things I can do. Have you thought of what to do with Dreaming Blue? If we just scatter, she will ask questions. She might feel the need to get help. As it is she is a known threat we can control, to some extent. We need to bring her into our confidence."

"We can't trust her."

"Why not? I do not think she was particularly happy about the situation in heaven."

Heron nodded. "I will give you that."

"Even if all she does is stay quiet and give us the chance to hang ourselves, that will help."

"It does not feel like we have enough."

"What if we gave her somethin' she wanted?" Ivory asked.

"And what does she want?" Heron asked her.

Ivory opened her hands, within them was the watch he had won months before. "She wants the Orrery."

"True, but why would you give it to her?"

Ivory's cheeks coloured. "It's not much good to me. I can't get it to do what she can."

Heron was careful not to laugh or smile. "If you are willing to give it up then I think we might have a starting point and the leverage to ask her to swear an oath."

* * *

><p>Answers to reviews since last chapter<p>

**Mr Pumblechook** thanks for writing, glad you are enjoying it

**N3phtys** glad you like Ivory. Sorry that Lightning and Courtesan have not gotten the focus you would like. I can't promise that short and mid term that will change, but long term you should get what you want.

Always appreciate feedback.

* * *

><p>I suppose that the music for this chapter could be Hungry Like the Wolf.<p> 


	11. The Collar and the Parasol

**The Collar and the Parasol**

* * *

><p>Decisions made, they wasted no time in enacting them.<p>

Lightning was to take Courtesan and head south, far from the Ice Tree and the Tower. Heron and Ivory would also make their start in the south. They had only given themselves a short time to prepare.

The Lunar found Ivory in the manse's work room, building what looked a lot like a parasol.

"I need you to make me something," Lightning told her.

Ivory looked up the work table. "A new power bow for Courtesan?"

"No," she paused, "could you?"

"Probably," she said quickly, "if you want it."

"I'll keep that in mind. I need something to control her."

"Like she's an automaton?"

"No," Lightning shook her head. "No slave collars. Something that will make her control herself."

Ivory looked confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"The field around this manse, could you create one that was man-portable?"

"Maybe," she paused, "probably. I'm pretty sure I can. Why?"

"Courtesan was driven to try to kill you by the voices of the Neverborn. She would do quite a lot to avoid hearing them again."

"Oh," and then louder, "Oh. I see." Ivory nodded. "I'll make something."

"You will?"

"Shouldn't be too hard. And I have a positive opinion towards anything that keeps people from trying to kill me."

"Understandable. This is not going to interfere with your other work?" She looked towards the parasol like thing.

Ivory shook her head. "Won't have anytime to make anythin' else for you."

"If you can make this it will be more than enough."

* * *

><p>"I will not give you complete freedom to do as you wish," Dreaming Blue told Heron. "Even for the Orrery."<p>

"I am not asking you to, nor do I need your permission to do what I wish."

They stood outside the tower, near the Razor. The sun had been up for several hours and the air was growing warm.

"You might find your actions hampered if the Brotherhood takes an active interest in your activities."

Heron simply smiled, as if such events did not concern him in the least. No wonder he did so well as the Gaming tables, she thought.

"What will you swear?"

That, Dreaming Blue thought, was a good question.

"I will not hide the fact that you and Ivory travel to Malfeas, though I will not broadcast it."

"Acceptable."

"And if asked I will pass on that Lightning has taken the Abyssal into hiding, to protect her from other Abyssals."

"Very well. But that leaves our actions to return her Exaltation to what it was."

Dreaming Blue considered his words. "You do not talk about saving or redeeming Nihilistic Courtesan."

"No, I do not."

"Why?"

Heron looked away from Dreaming Blue for a moment, starting up at he sky. "Ivory spoke a prophecy to me last night."

"That girl and her prophetic statements. Low level leakage from the Loom of Fate, or momentary disturbances in Sacheverll's slumber. She shook her head. "They are messy."

"But true it seems."

"True is messy. True is the worst because it leaves little room to get out of the fate."

"That is an interesting statement."

"Better a prophecy controlled and vague. What did she say?"

"The light of the Unconquered Sun will burn death's doxy to nothing and the Lunar shall be forever scarred by the light."

"Charming. Who else heard this?"

"At the moment, Ivory, myself and now you."

"Keep it that way. I dislike prophecy like that. I will let my superiors know you seek an audience with the Unconquered Sun. It will either make them laugh or scare them to death. That is the most I can keep secret." She reached out towards Heron and he took her hand.

"I swear that I shall not tell anyone of your plans, other than you seek an audience with the Unconquered Sun, if Ivory gives me the Orrery before you leave for Malfeas, and I shall keep my silence until the day after the end of the upcoming Calibration."

"Let Heaven witness and bind your oath," Heron spoke, and around them his anima flared up into golden flames.

"You are all bastards," Dreaming Blue told him.

* * *

><p>Silken steel, dyed a soft pink, with a white, snow drop pattern on the material, covered the parasol's oricahlcium and moonsilver frame. Ivory had it open above her, spinning it, looking up at the old realm characters she had put on the underside. The words were a prayer to the Unconquered Sun, spinning the parasol made it a prayer wheel.<p>

It was quite elegant and pretty.

She put her hand around the bottom of the shaft, twisted, and pulled out a blade of gold. A small sword, with an edge that had been honed with sunlight and soul, she suspected it could cut a thought in two if she could hit it. Ivory slid the blade back into the shaft, locking it in place.

She closed the parasol and placed it on her workbench.

"I am not travelling to Malfeas with you."

Ivory turned to look at Hu. "Of course you are," she said.

"No, not this time."

Ivory frowned. "You haf to come with me," she said.

Hu shook his large head, a strangely human gesture. "Heron has chosen to keep your plans from me. I agree with him."

"I don't care. You're coming with me!"

Hu got up from the floor, he twined around her, like a house cat might have twined around her ankles, but Hu's body covered all of her. He knocked her off her feet, but at the same time kept her from falling, instead gently putting her on the floor before pinning her with a large paw. "I am not," he told her.

Ivory struggled against him a moment, but the tiger was much stronger than she. "Who will protect me?" she asked, her voice softer.

Hu did not release her. "If you are smart enough you will not need protection."

"That's not fair!"

"Thank you," he said, and then released her even as he left.

Ivory sat up, watched him go. "Stupid Hu," she said softly.

She was still sitting on the floor when Darken Gray came into the room. "Young ladies do not sit on the floor."

"This one does right now," Ivory told her.

Darken Gray's heels clicked on the floor as she walked over to Ivory. She knelt down and placed a hand on Ivory's forehead. "What has you upset?"

"Hu is not coming to Malfeas with me."

"That is no surprise. Gods are not made welcome in hell. I am not going with you."

"Hu's been with me since I Exalted," she said softly.

Darken Gray pushed Ivory's hair away from her face, smiled, and said, "All the more reason for you to return quickly to Creation and Hu then. Now up on your feet." She stood, pulling Ivory up with her. "Are you finished your work here?"

Ivory looked around the workshop. "Yes."

"Well, we shall clean up, and then it will be time for you to go to bed."

Ivory, feeling tired, did not argue. She looked through the odds of scraps, finding places to put them, while Darken Gray sorted though tools and put them where they needed to go.

"The shelves are too empty," Ivory said as she put a twisted coil of moonsilver into a drawer.

"Yes," Darken Gray said, hanging a large mallet up on the wall. "I suppose in this age it will be difficult to get replacement materials."

"I can probably r'place more of the raw materials." With a grunt of effort she put a bar of orichalcium up onto a shelf just above her head. "The reagents and mechanisms will be harder to get."

They continued in silence, tidying up. The room, while looking a little sparser than when Ivory had first come into it, was neat at the very least.

Darken Gray took Ivory's hand and led her from the room. The lights went out behind them.

* * *

><p>A dream woke Ivory, leaving her laying on a bed roll, a little confused. "Caretaker?" she asked.<p>

"Yes Ivory?"

"What time is it?"

"Two hours and twenty one minutes after midnight."

Ivory sat up, pushing the thin cover off her. "I dreamed of something."

"Would you like to tell me?"

Ivory hugged her arms around her knees. "Of the orrery maybe." She paused. "Is there an observatory here?"

"No, I am afraid not. There is a planetarium on the lower levels."

"A planetarium?"

"Yes."

"Does it work?"

"It does. Would you like to see it?

"Where is Darken Gray?"

"She is in the room next over."

Ivory thought about it, then got up, her night dress settling around her. "Please show me the way."

"Of course."

Outside of the room Ivory found another of the sprites bobbing in the air, waiting for her. She followed if through the shadowy corridors of the manse, her bare feet quiet on the floors.

As she walked she asked questions about what was through the various doors she passed. The Caretaker told her, informing her of the current condition as well as past uses.

"Ivory, both Heron and Sparrow are up ahead."

Ivory paused. "What are they doing?"

"Talking."

"As long as they are only talking," She said softly. "Let's circle around."

"Of course Ivory"

* * *

><p>It was a music room, and there were a few instruments that had survived the ages, but most had succumbed to time. It was brightly lit, and provided enough place for Sparrow and Heron to spread out maps and papers on the floor in front of them as they talked.<p>

There were also several wine bottles and a pair of glasses. The bottles had come from the Razor, the glasses from the manse. The two of them had drunk quite a lot, but Sparrow supposed that Heron, like she, had an increased tolerance since exalting.

"If anything happens, your likeliest allies are the Marukan and Lookshy," Heron said.

"Too far."

"Make it worth their time to travel the distance. Lookshy has air transport."

"Worth their time? Yes, I suppose it could be."

"What are you thinking?"

"We have it in us to become the premier maintenance facility of the age. But that requires Ivory."

"Ivory can teach," Heron told her.

"Maybe, probably not. Who wants to learn things from a child?"

"She will grow up soon enough."

"We may not have the time." She pulled a letter towards herself, sliding it over the smooth tiles. "This is a bad time for you to leave."

"There won't be a good time."

"I don't want you to leave. I thought we'd be able to work together. With the resources taken care of we could find some project that would just allow us to be with each other."

Heron moved his hand closer to hers, but did not take it. It was sparrow who chose to reach out and grasp it. "We're scattering, as if we had never met."

"We're scattering to help each other. We'll be back together soon enough."

"Or we will all die, alone."

Heron squeezed her hand. "That might happen."

Sparrow took a deep breath. "And it might not, I should not dwell on it." She kept her hold on his hand for a few seconds, then gently slid her fingers out of his. "I can put together enough of a deterrent to keep the small threats away, but if something big happens, how do I get Lookshy's help?"

"You start with Karal Linwei and Namiko Teresu," he told her with a smile. "Convince them that there is a benefit for Lookshy and they will do the rest for you."

Sparrow nodded, but then said, "Why is it that your strongest allies seem to be women?" She was not certain why she had said it, she certainly hoped it did not make her sound jealous, even if she was, which she was not sure of.

Heron lifted his shoulders and picked a piece of paper up from the floor. "I am not sure that is the case. And even if it is," and he smiled at her, "I am just as likely to have taken my male friends as lovers as my female."

Sparrow wanted to tell him that that did not make her feel better, but she knew for certain she would sound jealous then. "If Lookshy and the Marukan will not help, who else, male or female can I talk to?"

Heron did not answer immediately as he looked over the maps. Finally he said, "No one close enough or with the strength to help."

"Alright, then I need to start thinking about making more allies."

"What are you going to do?"

Sparrow reached for one of the reports and said, "Think about it."

* * *

><p>The planetarium was in the tower's basements, a large globe, carved out of the rock, the huge projector suspended in the centre of the space. It reminded Ivory of the Solar manse under Lookshy. She walked along the cat walk until she stood by the assemblage of lenses and gears made of brass and orichalcium.<p>

Hesitating for a moment, fingers brushing against the controls, she took a breath and then activated the device.

The room went dim, and above her were projected the starts of the night sky.

"Is this accurate?" she asked.

"It is," The caretaker answered. "This is currently what is in the night sky."

Ivory looked at the projection above, astronomy lessons allowing her to pick out the constellations and stars, to even put some significance to their current placement. Soon enough she grew bored with the stars and looked again at the projector and its controls.

"This seems more complicated than it needs to be," she finally said.

"The Lady built if herself. I cannot say if it is more complicated than what she intended."

Ivory thought that a strange answer, but did not press the Caretaker. Instead she accessed the controls and activated the second set of projectors.

Below other stars appeared, with a clockwork nature to them. Ivory stared down at them and asked, "That is the Calendar of Setesh?"

"Yes," the Caretaker told her, "but it is not current. That is how the Calendar appeared when first built. What is appears like now the projector will not show."

Ivory looked all around, her gaze drifting from the stars above to the Calendar below. "Why did she build this?"

"I cannot say."

After several minutes Ivory reached out and shut the projector down, leaving the room in darkness for a few seconds before the lights came up. "One more thing for me to find out."

* * *

><p>Hu sat alone in the tower's antechamber, staring at the sarcophagus.<p>

"Would your mother have approved of Ivory?" The caretaker asked.

"She would have been disappointed to learn the Exaltation passed as it has," Hu answered. "A child, the descendant of the very people who had killed her and destroyed Creation."

"I will serve whoever possess the shard, but do you approve of her?"

Hu growled to indicate he did.

"And how long will you care for her? Your mother would not have wanted you to put your career in danger to look after Ivory."

"Five Days in Darkness allows this."

"You owe your mother no debt that is repaid by becoming guardian to the one who now holds her power."

"What business is it of yours Caretaker?"

"The Lady had me care for both the tower and her children who lived within."

"I am not that cub anymore."

"That may be so, but I remember it well enough, and I suppose one of my last duties to the Lady is to ensure that her remaining child is happy."

Hu was quiet for a time, eyes focused on the sarcophagus. "I am content for the moment."

"Will you tell Ivory?"

"Likely, when she is older."

* * *

><p>For Courtesan it was as if only one moment had passed between her being put in the stasis pod and Lightning opening it.<p>

It had been three days, though she could not credit it. Still, when she stepped out of the Tower is was the bright day of early morning, so obviously some time had passed.

"Follow me," Lightning told her, and the Lunar started towards the forest. They walked past the Razor, and Courtesan thought to ask about the others, but chose to hold her question. Lightning did not look like she would choose to answer.

They passed into the shadows under the trees, and the old roadway that spiralled out of the deep crater the manse occupied. It was quiet, cool, soft sounds of insects and the cries of birds. Every now and then she saw the white of old bone amongst the leaf litter.

She supposed they might have been walking two hours or so, by the glimpses of the sun she would see through breaks in the canopy. The pace Lightning set was a quick walk, not changing. The trees thinned and they came to the rim of the crater.

Lightning stopped. "The field that protects this tower ends as soon as you step over it the rim." She turned to look at Courtesan. "When you step over it, the power of the Underworld can reach you again."

Courtesan took a step back, though whether from Lightning or the boundary, she was not entirely certain.

"I don't want to leave this place," she said quietly.

"Ivory won't have you here, bringing unwelcome attention."

Courtesan turned and looked over her shoulder, wondering if there were other places like this, ones where a child would not chase her away. "You don't know what it is like."

"I suppose not. I can offer you something."

Courtesan turned back to Lightning. The Lunar had produced a wooden case, it rested across the palms of her hands as she held it out towards her. Courtesan took a handful of small steps forward, she reached for the case and opened it.

Within the box rested a band of woven orichalcium and moonsilver in the pattern of roses wrapped in thorns, set with slivers of jet and small rubies. It was quite beautiful and Courtesan's hand reached towards it. "It is a collar," she said after a moment.

"Or a necklace perhaps," Lightning said, "it might be any neck jewellery, but let's call it a collar. I will lock it around your neck, after that I can cause it to fall free whenever I chose, and you may remove it yourself as you wish."

She looked away from the collar and up at Lightning. "And if I take it off?"

"Only a Solar or a Lunar can lock it around your neck again."

"And when it is locked?"

Lightning's smile held no warmth in it. "Ivory is certain it will offer you protection from the voices of your Underworld masters."

Courtesan nodded, swallowed to moisten her throat. "What would you have me do?" There had to be a price.

"When we pass beyond the boundary field, if the collar does indeed silence the voices and whispers, you will swear an oath and Heron will have heaven bind it."

"What is the oath?"

Lightning did reply immediately. Finally she told her, "Obedience to me while you wear that collar."

Courtesan thought about it for a few seconds. "I'll accept that."

Lightning shifted the box about and took the collar from it. "Turn around."

Courtesan did so.

"Lift your hair."

She reached behind her to gather up her blonde hair and lifted it to expose her neck.

Lightning stepped up close behind her, Courtesan stiffened her knees to keep her legs from trembling. "Ivory says that if you call upon the powers of the Underworld it might open a temporary hole in the protection. Keep that in mind."

The smooth, silky soft metal slipped around her neck, was pulled gently tight, and there was a click as Lightning locked it. Courtesan reached up and ran her fingers along the metal. The metal seemed to tingle against her skin.

Lightning tossed the wooden box aside. Courtesan turned to see the Lunar stepping over the crater rim.

Courtesan followed, pausing a moment before making that step. She felt the effect of the field, like stepping through a spiderweb. On the other side of it the strange sense of peace she had felt was gone, but the voices of the Neverborn did not erupt in her head. Even the quiet murmurs she had recently been subject to were gone.

If she held herself still and searched deep within she thought she could sense the potential, but it was far, far away.

"Is it working?"

She looked at Lightning, swallowed again and then nodded. "I don't hear them."

"Good," Lightning said and continued down the old, broken road, finally stopping and taking a seat in the shadow of a thorny bush.

Courtesan made her way close to the Lunar and took a seat nearby.


	12. Deserts of Departure

**Deserts of Departure**

* * *

><p>The Razor had crossed the distance between the Scavenger lands and the deserts of the South in a little less than a day, and the sun had still not risen. The craft came down in the cover of darkness, on a rocky ridge of stone that overlooked a trade road and the Yellow Leaf Oasis.<p>

The cargo hatch opened, Lightning climbed out, letting Courtesan climb out on her own. The collared Abyssal had sworn her oath of obedience and pledged Ivory's safety so Lightning had not needed to hobble her.

Heron came down from the passenger compartment, jumping to the rocky ground. He was ready for the desert, wearing loose, white pants and a long sleeved shirt, his hair braided into a long, single tail, covered with a black, silk wrap. He carried a cloak the colour of sand under one arm, and as he landed he set his wide brimmed hat high on his head.

Ivory came out behind him, Darken Gray helping her down. Ivory was dressed in a manner similar to Heron, but her hair was pushed back from her face by a golden hairband, and she wore her long, black cloak.

Hu followed, landing lightly, and a moment later Sparrow leaned out of the hatch. "You are all sure of this?"

"Not really," Lightning called up to her, "but it seems like the best plan we have for the moment."

Sparrow looked over all of them, her gaze settling on Courtesan for a few seconds. The Abyssal took a step back and turned her face away.

"Anyone need a ride out of here?"

"Thank you," Darken Gray said, "but I shall make my own way."

Hu moved close to Ivory, his intention clear.

"How long until you return?"

"Don't expect us back for at least a month," Heron told her.

"We'll keep moving until you send word," Lightning said.

Sparrow nodded, not looking happy. "Very well. Take care, all of you." She looked directly at Heron as she said it, then took a step back, closing the hatch.

The Razor took off slowly, raising little dust, then, when it was high enough, it turned and flew off, increasing speed until it was gone from their sight.

Lightning put a hand on Courtesan's shoulder and directed her towards the oasis.

Heron watched them go, then lay his cloak across a flat stone and took a seat. "I'll go down later to buy some supplies," he told Ivory.

"Will anyone come up here today?" Ivory asked him as she paced around the area.

"Probably not."

Ivory kicked a small stone away.

Darken Gray found a small, flat rock and took a surprisingly proper seat on it. "Ivory, sit down and get some rest."

Ivory looked around, then did as Darken Gray had said, Hu coming over the sit beside her.

When the sun lit up the eastern edge of Creation Heron got to his feet, watching it slowly raise.

"It might be some time before we see this again," he said to Ivory.

He heard Ivory get to her feet, cross the rocky ground. The Two solars stood and greeted the sun.

* * *

><p>The sun was barely up when Lightning walked over the sands and stepped onto the road. Old glass, cracked in places, but still solid, lead towards Chiaroscuro in one direction, and the other farther into the desert. The oasis was not quite a days travel away from the city.<p>

She paused near a large pole on which hung a large ring of iron. Reaching up she ran her hand along the metal, polished with the brush of thousand and thousands of hands. Lightning made sure that Courtesan also touched the iron, knowing that people within the tents were watching.

On the edge of the oasis, where hardy desert grasses sprung up amidst the sand, a low wall of mud bricks had been constructed, and a guard stood at the single opening.

"Business?" he asked her, looking the both of them over.

Lightning carried her daiklaive, wrapped in a sheet of cotton and bound with leather, over her shoulder. The size of the weapon alone would mark her as a person to be wary of. Courtesan carried no weapons and the guard ignored her after his first look.

"Horses," she said, "and some supplies. We're riding to Chiaroscuro."

"You walked out of the desert?"

"Caravan master kicked us out. Been walking some of the night."

He frowned, narrowed his eyes. "Why'd he do that?"

"We weren't willing to share his tent."

"Man have to be a bastard to do that."

"He was," Lightning said in agreement. Her words were sweetened with essence, their tones and her body language projecting trustworthiness.

"Got silver to spend?"

Lightning shifted her cloak, revealing a belt pouch. A turn of her hips caused the metal within to chime musically.

"Go in. Don't cause no trouble. You'll be watched."

"Thank you," Lightning told him, and passed through the gap in the wall.

"How long will that last?" Courtesan asked. "He might believe it now, but if he talks to someone about us the story is pretty thin."

"By then we will have spent some money, and silver has a way of erasing questions."

There was activity within the oasis, the smells of cooking, people waking to the new day. Lightning strolled along a path, towards the large pool that fed the oasis, and the fenced paddocks that held the livestock.

"Do you ride?" Lightning asked Courtesan. She stopped by the split rail fence and looked at the horses.

"No."

"Let's see what they have." She put her foot on the lowest rail, stood up on it, looking over the animals. It was, she thought, a fairly diverse mix.

"Welcome, welcome," a woman called out.

Lightning looked over her shoulder, saw the speaker, a middle aged woman, approaching. Well dressed, confident, not someone's wife sent out to greet customers. Desert robes, partially open, her brown hair slightly damp.

"Good morning," Lightning said, stepping down from the rail. "I want to buy a pair of horses."

"Of course, of course," she said with a smile, and swept her arm out to indicate the horses. "The finest horseflesh you'll find on this side of Chiaroscuro." She looked Lightning and Courtesan over as she moved loser to the fence. "Look at those two. Fine mares, strong and solid!"

Lightning took a place beside the woman. "A pair of desert ponies, both have seen better days. You are a cruel woman to sell those to any that expect work from them."

The horse trader did not let that phase her. "Ah, too true, too true. The morning light is hard on my old eyes." She laughed. "You are right. Well then, take a look at that white stallion." She indicated a large horse in a smaller, separate paddock.

Lightning looked at the animal and nodded. "A finer horse I have not seen recently, and were I looking for a sire for a herd of mares I would buy that one in a moment, but what I do not need is a high strung, unbroken maverick."

The woman narrowed her eyes as she looked closely at Lightning. "I could sell that to a young, stupid, noble Delzahn."

"Likely you could."

The woman turned lo look back at the horses. "Hard horse to ride, but someone who can look at a sleepy animal and speak its disposition so well might easily bring that horse to heel."

"Maybe so."

"Riding to Chiaroscuro are you?"

"Your gate guard talks a lot."

The woman nodded. "He does. I'll sell you the stallion and a gelding for your slave, saddle, and tack, for one hundred pieces of trade weight silver. You can sell that white beast in the city for at least two hundred."

"So why not take it to the city yourself?"

"Tried, twice. First time my son ended up with a broken arm and wasted two days chasing that stallion. Second time it killed the fool who thought he could break it. Had to pay a death price for that."

"Not interested in helping you get the death price back," Lightning said. "The stallion, that roan," she pointed to a strong, but placid looking horse, "saddle and tack, fifty silver coins."

"Ridiculous. Ninety."

"I am feeling generous, seventy."

The woman frowned, kicked one of the fence poles and then spat. "You are taking food from my family, but I will accept it." She held out her hand.

Lightning took it and gave it a strong shake. "Deal."

The horse trader, Cinnamon, had tea brought for Lightning and Courtesan while she had sent for the people who would get the horses and the saddles.

Lightning tossed the tea back into her mouth and put the cup aside. "I'll go and get the rest of the things we need. Stay back from the stallion, but see if you can get the roan used to you. Horse looks a little stupid, hopefully it won't know it should be afraid of you."

Not waiting for Courtesan's reply, and not caring for it either, she went to buy the gear they would need for their ride to Chiaroscuro. When she got back, weighed down with her purchases, Courtesan was gently petting the roan's muzzle as nearby the stallion pulled at the rope that tied it to a fence post, trying to break free.

She dropped her purchases, walked up to the horse, stepped close before it could kick, grabbed its halter and pulled its head towards her. "I'll eat your heart and take your form if you give me any trouble, do we have an understanding meat?" she whispered to it.

The horse immediately stilled, its eyes rolling slightly and it laid its ears back against its head.

"Pack the saddle bags, and roll the blankets into a two separate bundles," she told Courtesan, "we need to leave soon if we are going to make the City before the sun sets."

Courtesan went to do as she had been told. She stopped after a moment, holding up an old recurve bow and a quiver of arrows that lay amongst the things Lightning had purchased. "Are these for me?"

"They're nothing special," Lightning nodded as she untied the stallion and pulled it close to where Courtesan worked, "but they might come in handy." The horse snorted nervously, apparently smarter than the gelding and recognizing Courtesan for what she was.

"Thank you," Courtesan told her.

* * *

><p>Heron had gone to the oasis early in the day, returning with the supplies they would need. They had spent the day resting, a tarp stretched between rocks to give them some shade.<p>

Ivory sat on a rock, holding up a medallion of orichalcium. Within the golden setting was an irregular shaped stone of dark-yellow amber. It was the hearthstone from the earth manse under the Ice Tree, a stone of safe harvest.

"How are we going to get to Malfeas?" she asked.

Heron, who had been quiet on that matter for a time looked at the sun, low on the horizon. "I need you to summon an agate named Talmon," he said.

Ivory slipped the medallion over her head and slipped in under her clothing. "How can an agate get us to Malfeas?" She jumped to her feet, ran towards where Heron stood, skirting Darken Gray. "They're only minor demons. You need one of the second circle to bring you to the demon realm."

"During Calibration one might cross over, if one is foolish," Darken Gray said.

Ivory turned towards her and nodded. "It takes five days to cross the desert Cecelyne before one reaches the demon city. When one leaves they always return to Creation before Calibration ends, which is strange."

"Very good," Darken Gray said.

"Time moves in a manner inconsistent with Creation," Heron said, still looking towards the setting sun. "But we will not wait for Calibration."

Ivory was curious as to what Heron planned. "I've read that in the First Age there were other ways into the Malfeas." She turned in a circle and said, "A key that will cause any door to open into the city."

"Not the kind of key you would want to find by accident." Heron turned towards her and smiled. "Call Talmon tonight and I'll tell you more."

Ivory waited a moment, then ran to her small pack and began to remove the things she needed to summon the demon. A bit of chalk to sketch out her summoning circle, a few twists of orichalcium and jade to form the binding; she would begin as soon as the sun set.

Hours passed while she cast the spell, calling the agate, Talmon, to appear before her. Her cast mark glowed on her forehead, and the lines of her circle glowed softly with sorcerous power. She was aware of the others around her, but she did not pay attention to what they did.

When midnight came Ivory finished the spell. She stood from where she knelt and spoke the last word of the spell which fell into place like the keystone of an arch.

The agate appeared before her, larger than most of the breed; almost as large as Octavian's famed agate steed. Talmon crouched low on six jewelled legs, the beautiful gemstone eyes meeting her gaze. Seconds passed, and then the demon dipped its head in submission.

"Done," Ivory said happily.

"Good," Heron told her. "Tell it to call upon Florivet, that it will fly us into the desert of Cecelyne and it must open itself up to the Whim of the Wind."

Ivory turned towards it, "I am sure you heard Heron. Call upon Florivet and fly us into the desert." Ivory said it confidently, but she really did not know what was to happen.

"Surely master," the agate spoke in a voice of brass bell and cyrstal, "such a trip does not really interest you. Command me and I will fly you across Creation and we will see wonders and enjoy adventures together."

"You are kind to offer, but you'll call on Florivet and fly us to Cecelyne."

It buzzed its wings in agitation. "Very well master, but you are cruel to ask."

So beautiful was it and so sad did it sound that Ivory looked over her shoulder at Heron. He paused in loading supplies into a pack. "Don't let it whine to you Golden Eyes."

Ivory turned back to the demon. "Florivet, now."

The agate stilled its wings, its weight shifted slightly. "You will not have long Gate Breaker," the Agate said, its voice still beautiful, but the inflections different. Ivory took a step back, surprised. "I will not have Talmon harmed so there is no time to dally."

"I Understand," Heron said, shouldering his pack as he approached the wasp. He climbed upon its back in one effortless motion and then offered a hand to Ivory. "Come on Golden Eyes, we have to hurry."

Ivory took his hand and he pulled her up onto the wasp, settling her ahead of him.

Darken Gray approached the wasp. She held a valise up to Ivory. "Your headband will keep you clean, but there are some clothes in here, for presentations sake. A lady does not travel without a chance of undergarments at the very least."

Ivory took the valise and tucked it against her. "Thank you Darken Gray." She looked towards Hu. "I will see you when I get back. Be safe."

Hu dipped his head in agreement.

"Do not trust the demons," Darken Gray told Ivory. "Do not get caught up in their schemes. And if you must sell your soul, do so dearly. Your mother would accept nothing else."

"Do so dearly?" Heron asked.

"She is a Twilight," Darken Gray said as she stepped back from the wasp.

"Thank your Darken Gray," Ivory said, smiling at the god. And then she called out excitedly, "Let's go."

The wasp took to the air, hovering for a few seconds, as if getting used to the weight upon its back. Ivory waved to Darken Gray and Hu before the wasp turned, banking, and sped out over the dark sands.

"Hold tight, I would not sadden Talmon with your falling," the agate said.

There was a twisting sensation, and while the agate maintained its straight flight, the world seemed to turn and twist around them. The crescent moon was gone from the sky, and far off on the horizon was a green light.

"That hurt master," Talmon said, its voice back to how Ivory had first heard it.

"Yes, I am sorry," Ivory told it.

"Down there," Heron said, "the land ship, put us down beside it."

"Down to the ship," Ivory said.

The agate dropped smoothly and quickly, and in a moment it landed on the silver sands beside the land ship.

"This is the Foremost Gale," Heron said as he dismounted. "Its Master is Florivet, Whim of the Wind, soul of the End of All Wisdom. Best behaviour Golden Eyes."

At the railing of the ground ship stood a tall figure: cloven hoofed, on digitigrade legs, a man's broad torso, with a lupine head. From his shoulders sprouted majestic wings of glorious white feathers. He regarded Heron with wide, shining eyes like those of an owl. "As promised Gate Breaker, your return to the hell of our prison is achieved."

"You have my thanks Florivet," Heron said, dipping his head in a slight bow. "And now I would ask that do me a further favour and transport us across the beautiful wastes of Cecelyne to the brass wall of Malfeas."

"Is that all you ask?" Florivet snorted.

"I also ask that you provide me with a fresh introduction to Orabilis, for I need to research the knowledge of the Yozis."

He laughed, tossing back his wolf like head, a musical sound. Laughter over he returned his attention to Heron for a moment, then his gaze shifted to Ivory, who was climbing from Talmon's back. "You ask all this and the lady is far too young. Between your own beauty and the promised beauty of the child, I think that you are toying with me Gate Breaker."

"Never Whim of the Wind," Heron said, "this is Golden Eyes, Twilight sorceress who joins me on my mission here. In a decade she might speak for herself on such matters, but at the moment..."

"Oh?" He leaned forward on the rail of the ship. "And are you willing to walk rather than offer me the pleasure of either of your most intimate company?"

Ivory, who had a moment before been focusing on the fact that Heron seemed to think it would take a decade before she might be old enough for such mature pleasures (and being a little upset about that number, ten years being a long time, and a little sad that in ten years she would be unchanged), had her attention snapped to the demon. She was not afraid really, for she knew that she was protected by the Eclipse oaths Heron could call on. However, she knew that deals could be made, and one might open themselves up to harm.

Before Heron could answer another voice sounded. Similar in tone to that of the agatae, it said, "Surely this is not a worthy topic." The speaker stepped to the rail beside Florivet. She was a woman, mostly, for she had jewelled eyes like the agate, and from her shoulders sprouted wings similar to those of Florivet, though they were tinged with red along the edge of the feathers.

"And I am sure the airships would benefit from calm winds." She turned to look at Ivory. "Would you not summon up the Whim of the Winds on a moonless night, offer him a cask of spirits and a courtesan or three, for calm winds?"

Ivory, staring up at the woman, said nothing,

Heron answered first, "So you know about the airships?"

The woman laughed, as did Florivet, and the woman said, "I must admit that we knew of and played in a part in the recent difficulties you had."

"I hope there is no displeasure then over how that event ultimately played out."

"Not from us," Florivet said. "I shall offer you passage, and the introduction you seek," he returned his attention to Ivory, "and I hope that I will be offered suitable recompense one day."

"We shall see," Heron said before Ivory might answer. "Let's go Golden Eyes."

Ivory nodded, a little flustered by all that had happened. She turned towards Talmon. "If I can get you word, will you come and give me a ride? From now until I leave Malfeas, or until the next Calibration, were I to stay that long?"

"Agreed," the agate answered.

"You may go then, and thank you."

Talmon's wings buzzed and it took to the air, zipping away. "We'll still both arrive at the city in five days," Ivory said softly. Then she turned and ran across the silver sand, towards Heron who was already climbing aboard the Foremost Gale.

* * *

><p>It was night when Sparrow brought the Razor back to the Ice Tree. A storm had blown in from the south, the warm winds creating punishing down drafts as they cooled. An airship would have had difficulty flying in such conditions, might even be forced to put down, but the Razor had the power to push through that kind of weather.<p>

She circled the Ice Tree twice then put the Razor into its landing cradle.

She exited the ship, a blast of icy snow hitting her in the face. After pulling on her leather flight jacket she sealed the Razor and jumped down onto the spar. Dreaming Blue was there, waiting for her, standing a few steps off in a pool of light . She appeared bored.

"Let's go," Sparrow called over the wind. The spar's walkway had a rough texture to it, offsetting the slippery, wet snow, making the walk safe enough.

Sparrow pulled the hatch to the tree open, stepping aside so Dreaming Blue could enter. She followed, pulling the door closed behind her. It was quiet and warm within.

"Shall we go to your office?" Dreaming Blue asked, brushing snow from her kimono.

"Let's."

Kiyoshi met them just outside of Sparrow's office. He looked as if he might have been asleep, but he stood there, in his armour, eyes clear even if his hair suggested bed head. "Welcome back Captain," he said.

"Thank you. What's the news?" She pushed open the door to her office.

"No problems here. Where are the rest?"

Sparrow turned to face him, both he and Dreaming Blue had followed her into the room. "Lightning and the Death Knight are leading any assassins to the South and Ivory and Heron have gone to Malfeas."

Kiyoshi was silent before saying, "Next time I want to come with you. Both those options sound more interesting that playing watchman here."

Sparrow knew why Kiyoshi was with them, or more to the point she trusted Heron's opinion on why the Terrestrial was there. "I'll see if I can give you something more interesting to do." She circled her desk.

"Oh?" Dreaming Blue said, at the same time Kiyoshi stated, "I like the sound of that."

Sparrow took a seat, indicated that both Dreaming Blue and Kiyoshi should sit. She found herself wishing she had a valet, someone who could have had tea waiting. She found herself missing Darken Gray's presence.

"I want more Dragon Blood soldiers," she told them. "Officers, pilots, medics, whatever. I want them."

"Hard to just whistle them up," Kiyoshi told her.

"You cannot be serious," Dreaming Blue said.

"Dead serious."

"Maybe you could whistle them up," Kiyoushi ventured. "I mean, you are the woman who helped put down the Mask of Winters. That means a lot."

Dreaming Blue looked distressed. "Gathering Dragon Bloods..."

"Will worry some people, I am aware. No matter what I do I am going to cause concern, fear, anger, all of it really. So, you are here as an advisor, what advice do you have to offer, other than not to?"

There was a look on Dreaming Blue's face as if she had been slapped, but it was gone in an instant. "Very well. First of all, do not try to snap up any scions of the Imperial families," she dipped her head towards Kiyoshi, "or of the Lookshy Gens. Not that I do not think you could not be successful in such an enterprise, but it will upset the balance too much."

"I was thinking of going to Whitewall."

"Whitewall? Why?"

Sparrow smiled. "Do you really need to know why, or is this some kind of test?"

Dreaming Blue arched an eyebrow.

"Very well. It is far enough away from the Ice Tree, some distance from any large bastion of the Realm, and from what I have heard they are in constant danger from powerful foes. They are not picky about the help they get, which means I'll be safe there, safe enough at least, and I will find others who were looking to be some distance from any large bastion of the Realm."

"That is a well reasoned argument."

"Surprised?"

"Have you considered how the rulers of Whitewall will react when you come to take away their protectors?"

"I have. I won't take them all, and I will have done them a service large enough to moderate my recruitment."

"What service?" Koyoshi and Dreaming Blue asked at nearly the same moment.

Sparrow shrugged her shoulders. "I am sure the rulers of Whitewall or its defenders will provide me with that answer when I get there."

"I support this plan," Kiyoshi said.

"That is why the First Age Solars never had Fire Aspects as advisors," Dreaming Blue told Sparrow.

"They were probably missing something then. I'll be leaving in two days, barring any more important concerns. You'll be coming with me," she told Kiyoshi.

"Good."

"I will come as well," Dreaming Blue said. "I will see if I can moderate this disaster."

Sparrow nodded. "Very well."

* * *

><p>The blianders, small costal sailing ships, had been making their way up the coast, sailing north, towards where the Anathema had fled. The sailors were nervous at the talk of the monks and the soldiers, for few wished to do battle with monstrous anathema nor heroic Solars (the crew was quietly divided on which it was).<p>

Anzar did not take part in those discussions, he had taken to his cabin, the rocking of the ship as it rolled across waves was relaxing. He wished he had a drink, but he avoided alcohol and other intoxicants while Deled was around.

Lying on his narrow bunk, staring up at the beams above him, he felt the ship shift, the creaking of the mast, a twisting in the timbers as the bilander was turned to the East.

Anzar climbed from his bunk and left the cabin, climbing onto the deck. The sun was rising, and they were turning into it. He looked about and saw the cliffs to either side of Yanaze river, with Lookshy on one bank and Good Harbour on the other.

He sought out the small ship's first officer, a djala male named Shim.

"When did we get the message to make for the Yanaze?"

"About ten minutes ago," Shim said.

"What else?"

Shim shook his head. "Just that."

Anzar wondered if Deled had decided to make for Vinleau. He no longer knew how he felt about that. He had made the suggestion purely out of fear, out of an unwillingness to go into the trap that Heron had set. However, he had thought about it since he had told Deled of Vinleau, and he wondered if he had made a mistake.

He could recall Heron's anger, and he suspected that any harm that Deled might bring to Vinleau would stoke that anger to great heights.

It was unlikely that Anzar would survive it.

"Got another message coming back," Shim told him.

Anzar looked up, saw the flashing lights on the stern of the ship they were following. Anzar was an experienced sailor and read the messages in the flashes quickly enough. "Docking at Lookshy."

"Yes," Shim said a few second later. "Do you think the honourable Deled seeks allies amongst the Seventh Legion?"

"He might," Anzar told Shim, though he did not mention that they had already spoken to the Seventh Legion and had not received any offer of help. "Perhaps he seeks other transport, more suited for the river."

"Could be. We can sail you up to Nexus, but we don't go much farther than that."

"We'll see soon enough." Anzar caught the scent of baking in the salt air. "I'm going to see what the cook is making for breakfast. We've got at least an hour before we reach the docks."

"Maybe two," Shim told him. The small man fell in beside Anzar, apparently also interested in getting a meal.

BREAKBREAKBREAKBREAK

There had been a time when Deled would have expected some aid from Lookshy, at the very least shared intelligence. But since the Empress had disappeared things had changed. Far too many things had changed and he wondered, not for the first time, if the Empress' disappearance had triggered the events of the past five years, or if her disappearance was just another of the events.

The officials of Lookshy he had deal with were unfailingly polite, to the point of offering insult. Not that he could call them out on it.

He was careful not to let his anger show, but he also did not fail to offer criticism when he might, quoting scripture. None of them ever disagreed, but they were careful so as to avoid agreeing to anything.

When he had arrived on the docks he had requested Lookshy's help in obtaining a river boat; they had been quick to provide that assistance. When he had asked to speak with a representative of the Legion it had only taken minutes for the woman to arrive.

Namiko Teresu, he had met her before, a woman who, according to Anzar, was the person handling issues regarding the Anathema Ivory and Heron.

Deled was certain the woman respected the Anathema, which brought his anger close to the surface.

"Peleps-dono, how may the Legion assist your Wyld Hunt?"

She was polite, but the tiniest smile that pulled up the corners of her mouth made a mockery of it.

"Provided me with forces to hunt the Anathema and do your duty to the Dragons."

The same smile, a shake of her head. "I am sorry, but the situation being as it is…"

Deled wanted to yell at her, to strike he for daring to deny the duties given to them by the Dragons, but he let his anger sink away, as if into the depths of the ocean.

"Then I shall tell you my business in the River Province, in the spirit of cooperation. As the Dragons command, their children shall stand together."

"As the Dragons command," she replied.

"I am going to the village of Vinleau."

"Where the Anathema Ivory was discovered," Namiko said.

"The Anathema are known to be territorial, they may return. If they do, I shall destroy them. I will try to protect the people of the village, but my holy duty is to end the threat of the Anathema. The Dragon's blessing upon those harmed or killed while their servants end the Anathema threat."

He was pleased to see Naimiko confident facade waver for a moment.

"As the Dragons command," she said softly. Then cleared her throat. "Would you give us a boon and take along with you forces of Lookshy who might be able to protect the citizens of the River Province?"

Deled did not answer immediately, enjoying the woman's distress, thanking the Dragons for the lever they had given them. "I cannot allow that," he said.

Namiko's lips thinned, her right fist clenching for a moment before she managed to relax. "Please Pelep-dono, the people of Vinleau deserve to be protected."

Deled smiled. "Better death than corruption of the Anathema poison, the word of Hesiesh."

"But did not Mela say…"

Deled leaned forward, grabbing her firmly but gently around the throat. "Do you dare to argue the interpretation of the holy texts?"

He could tell Namiko was not afraid, but she was concerned. "Of course not Peleps-Dono."

He released her and stepped away. He smiled and enjoyed the discomfort he saw in her eyes. "How many soldiers did you wish to send?"

She was uncertain, he thought, as if seeking a trap in his words. Finally she said, "Twenty mortal troops, all veterans."

"Then you will give me forty more troops, all veterans, to swell the ranks of my hunt."

"Forty? Why?"

"The twenty will need to be protected from the Anathema if they are to protect the citizens. My Hunt will need to be stronger to guarantee that."

Deled did not feel bad that he enjoyed the distress he was causing her, it was hardly the required punishment for a Terrestrial who refused to see the truth of the Dragons, but it was a start.

"I will see to getting you the troops you request."

"The forty, ensure they are well versed in the Immaculate Philosophy. I will want to be certain those members of the Hunt are Faithful."

She nodded. "I understand."

"You are dismissed," he told her.

* * *

><p>Music<p>

Danny Michelle's White Lightning for Lightning and Courtesan

* * *

><p>Notes: It is about 4000 miles between Great Forks and Chiaroscuro, so for a days of travelling the Razor would be cruising along at about 200 miles an hour, which is probably a comfortable cruising speed for the First Age ship.<p>

* * *

><p>Game Notes: Lunar's practice a sacred hunt in which the stalk and kill a target, consuming its hearts blood, allowing the Lunar to take that creature's shape.<p>

The Stone of Safe Harvest is a Hearth Stone from an Earth Manse. It transmutes anything eaten or drunken by the bearer into safe and nourishing food. Perfect thing anyone travelling to the Demon City (or anywhere really).


	13. A Tale in the Endless Desert

A Tale in the Endless Desert

* * *

><p>It had been about two days since they had entered the endless desert, the Foremost Gale had been speeding through the sands, Florivet at its helm. An adventurer at heart, the Whim of the Wind was easy with his stories and conversation, and Heron met that with equal enthusiasm. Ivory watched, intrigued by the interplay between the two, less thrilled with Heron and Julline's interaction. Julline was the winged woman.<p>

Aside from her wings and eyes, which were attractive in their own right, she was conventionally beautiful, generous in hip and breast, narrow of waist. Her hair was a red of a similar shade to the red on her wings, and it was long and light and blew in the wind of the ship's passage. It was hardly fair, Ivory had decided.

Travelling to Malfeas was supposed to give her and Heron a chance to spend time together. After all, she had met Heron before Lightning and Sparrow so it was only right that they get that time together. She had not expected to find that Heron was friends with demons.

It really did confound the mind.

And while there were several times she wanted to tell Julline to get away from Heron, she held her tongue. It would not be polite, and she was pretty sure that Julline would only laugh at her.

Still, not having the orrery to examine, or other similar diversions, she had grown bored. The passing silver sand could only hold her interest for so long.

"How'd you know each other," Ivory asked him, "and why do they call you the Gate Breaker?"

Julline looped the line she held around a cleat and said to Heron, "You have not told her the story, even though you brought her here?" She laughed.

"It is not important," Heron said.

Ivory, sensing there was a good story that she wanted to hear, said, "Please tell me."

"Tell her," Julline said. "She can just ask around if she wants." Julline turned to Ivory. "I can tell you. It is a salacious story that will likely kill a pure maiden like you."

Ivory leaned forward. "Really?"

"No, not really," Heron said as he crossed the deck to stand near the mast. "Any indecent parts to the story are purely in the heads of the tellers."

"So tell me the true tale, or I'll listen to the dirty one."

"I wonder what Darken Gray would think about that?"

"Darken Gray is in another world right now."

"You have a point. Very well." Heron shook his head, smiling. "I told you that I had served the Perfect of Paragon."

"As a secret bodyguard," Ivory supplied.

"Yes." He gazed out across the sand, a far off look in his eyes. Julline came and took a seat next to Ivory, her wings around them both. Florivet remained at the helm, but was leaning towards Heron.

"The Paragon is searching for someone, something lost that he definitely wants. He had not found it when I served him, probably still has not found it, but he found many other things. Treasures from the first age, some broken, others not and some dangerous." He shifted his attention to Ivory. "Have you ever heard of a Hell Gate?"

"A doorway into Malfeas? I've read some things..."

"The Paragon found one."

"The Blood and Lust Gate," Florivet spoke. "The Solars of old sometimes marched armies through it to do battle in Malfeas, and other times marched demons into Creation to work on great projects. It was more convenient for them."

"Of course he could not work it," Heron continued. "Only a Solar essence could unlock it. However, while it was quiescent, the Paragon was not willing to trust it. He had it well guarded, and increased that guard during Calibration, in case someone might think to use it while the barriers between the worlds were weakened.

"I was there five calibrations ago as one of the guards."

"That was when the Empress disappeared," Ivory said.

Heron nodded. "And the Solars returned. And that gate opened up to hell. Maybe they are connected."

"What happened?"

"We, myself and the others who were guarding the gate, were suddenly confronted with a doorway in space that led into Malfeas, and on the other side perhaps a hundred demons."

"They would gather at gates like that," Julline said to Ivory, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "In case they ever opened. Not that any demon would have expected them too. They were just as surprised as you," she said to Heron.

"Probably not as scared as us," Heron said, smiling. "I was pretty certain we would die then, but, I did not want to just give up. Fighting was a lost cause, I was certain of that. A few demons we might have fought, not a small army. They would roll over us completely. I also knew running was pointless, so I decided to talk to them instead. I stepped forward and told them that they would be breaking the law of the Unconquered Sun and be punished accordingly were they to step through the gate."

"How did you know about the Unconquered Sun's laws?"

"The Paragon found a lot of books as well as artifacts, and I was well read."

"Oh."

"I suspect the demons were surprised," he said.

"Of course they were," Julline said. "Here's a mortal who should be cowering in fear, like all the others mortals were, but instead he is quoting the laws of heaven to them."

"I kept speaking, saying things I had read, making a few things up based on guesses, all the time moving closer to the gate controls. And when I reached them I tried to shut it down. It would not close and I could tell the demons were getting over their surprise. That left me only one thing to try. There was a way to destroy the gates, but that was going to require that I step through it."

"Into Malfeas?"

"Into Malfeas. So I activated the device on Creation's side, then stepped through, still talking, and activated the control on the other."

"Did it work?" Ivory asked.

Heron gave her a smile. "Why do you think they call me Gate Breaker?"

"How did you get back?!"

"I did not, not then."

"But the demons..."

"Were terrified," Julline said.

"What?"

"That was the moment the Unconquered Sun chose me."

Ivory said nothing for a moment, putting the parts of the story together into a whole. "Oh," she said. "They couldn't touch an Eclipse."

"And they were not ready to deal with a Solar who had just destroyed their gate."

"But you were still trapped."

"Not really. I could walk from Malfeas. Five days and I would be back in Creation."

"Is that what you did?"

Heron shook his head. "I was curious. There were things I knew that I could learn in Malfeas. So I followed some of the fleeing demons into the city."

"Which is how we met," Julline told Ivory. "I was lucky enough to be the first Citizens to approach him. A Stranger, and one with power; at any time in Malfeas there are tens of thousands of demons who can benefit from that."

Ivory looked between Heron and Julline. "How?"

"I needed information, and Julline could get me easy access to the glass libraries of Orabilis."

"I needed ninety nine demons killed," Julline said.

"Eight," Heron said.

"Ninety nine sounds better."

"Why did you need the demons killed?" Ivory asked.

"There is a street called the Way of the Hopeful Slave, which I vied for control of with," she looked at Heron, frowned, and said, "eight other Citizens. We were forbidden to kill each other by the laws of Cecelyne, or from seeking the services from other Citizens or serfs in killing each other. However, a Stranger is neither Citizen nor serf. I assumed if one appeared who was strong enough, they could remove the others and no law would be broken.

"When I saw Heron, I knew I had found my champion."

"I was not interested in being her hired gun, but her offer of access to the libraries was not something I could easily turn down."

"How could she get you access?"

"Through me," Florivet said from his place on the tiller. "The End of Wisdom has long allowed my by-blows certain privileges."

"Oh," Ivory said, she paused, "how long did you stay?"

Heron looked out over the silver sands, then back to Ivory. "One year. From Calibration to Calibration. One year to secure Julline's hold on the Way of the Hopeful Slave, one year for me to learn all that I wanted. And then I walked out of the desert, back home."

* * *

><p>When Ivory had drifted off to speak with Florivet Heron moved closer to Julline.<p>

"Are you upset that I spoiled your secret?" she asked him, smiling.

Heron shook his head. "Not really. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to talk about business. I need access to the libraries again. Can you still make that happen?"

She grabbed one of the lines and pulled it, trimming the jib. As she tied the rope off she said, "I can, but what's in it for me?"

Heron did not reply immediately, his gaze drifting out over the sand. "You get my presence," he said after several seconds.

"So the pleasure of your company is all you're offering?"

"I am offering you the peace of mind that I am not dealing with another of the by-blows. The pleasure of my company is a reminder to any enemies you have made that you have allies in unexpected places."

"When you say it like that, you do make it hard to refuse."

"Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal." Julline nodded.

* * *

><p>Music - For when Heron tells his story (and a lot of time when Heron is in Malfeas) The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance<p>

And for those who wanted to know how Heron Exalted, hope this met your expectations :)


	14. Dawn in Whitewall

**Dawn in Whitewall**

* * *

><p>The city of Whitewall commanded the valley it occupied. Ten miles across, the city dominated among the patchwork of farms and orchards around it. The walls which it was named for were fifteen yards high, and six across, a barrier that few in the North would have the power to breach.<p>

The Traveler's Road ran straight into the valley, and right up to the city's huge, single gate. The road was 20 yards wide, made of white, granite, and travellers who walked upon it were easily seen.

As the sun rose over the Black Crag Mountains to illuminate the valley one of the night watchmen looked down on the road and spotted a small group of travellers. They rode upon long legged mounts; probably horses or reindeers. A number of other animals followed, loaded down with packs.

"Strangers coming along the road," he called down through the watchtower's hatch.

"This early?" a puzzled voice asked. "Look threatening?"

The watchman looked across the valley floor to the riders. "Not really," he called down.

"Keep an eye on them, give the bell a ring if you get a bad sense of them. I'll kick some of the archers awake."

A few minutes later the watch sergeant climbed up into the tower. He was a middle-aged man, thick black hair, heavy athletic build. The leather straps of his armour creaked as he pushed into the small space, leaned out to look at the road. "Farmers on the road?"

"Few," the watchman answered.

"Riders giving them any trouble?"

"No."

"Probably not going to cause any problems then. Looks like they are on reindeer. Barbarians looking to trade maybe."

"Maybe sergeant."

The two watched, curious about an otherwise uneventful morning. Below them the guardhouse and the city beyond were coming awake. The riders reached the gates while they were still closed.

No one called up to request the gates be opened, or to ask about how soon until they opened. Instead, one of the riders, a brown haired woman in a long, fur cloak, climbed from her reindeer. She walked to one of the pack animals, untied something covered in sacking, and then tossed the contents across the road where it landed on the packed dirt at the side.

"Is that…" the watchman asked.

"I think it is."

Another cloth wrapped bundle was untied, and another of the grisly trophies was thrown off to join the first.

"Send a runner to get a captain," the sergeant said. "I think someone high-up is going to want to see this."

* * *

><p>"Did you really kill all twelve?" the captain asked. She was a young woman, tall, plain and while apparently easily excited, seemed to know her job.<p>

"I did," Sparrow told her, and smiled. "Dead great terrors are not something you just find."

The captain looked surprised. "I did not mean to suggest you were trying to trick anyone," she said quickly, "just, well, twelve…"

"No offence given," Sparrow told her. "And it was surprisingly easy to find twelve. They tend you come to you."

The captain nodded, eyes wide. "But they are hunting you."

"They think they are hunting you."

"She's being modest," Kiyoshi said. He walked behind them, along with Dreaming Blue. "Five of those things are female."

"A pack?" The captain's eyes grew wider, which Sparrow would not have thought possible.

Sparrow was beginning to think that she might have gone a little overboard.

"She suckered them in close and just ripped into them when they got too close," Kiyoshi said. "If I had not seen it myself I would not have believed it."

Sparrow looked over her shoulder at the man, somewhat surprised by the tone in his voice. The mix of wonder and reverence were unexpected.

"I wish I could have seen it," the Captain said. She had led them from the gate, towards the Syndics hall. All around were the shops, stables, caravansaries and teahouses of Foretown. The area was coming awake, and many people were busy preparing for the upcoming summer market season.

Busy as people were, many watched as Sparrow and the others passed. It seemed rumours were already spreading ahead of them.

They passed through Midtown, even busier than Foretown, for farmers and miners were directing wagons loaded with tools towards the gates. The buildings in that part of the city were older, with many of the structures looking as if they had been repurposed over the centuries creating a sense of strangeness. After a time of walking through Midtown they passed near the tallest building in the city.

It was a temple, with grand spires and friezes that proclaimed the glory of a single god. Among the iconography Sparrow recognized her own caste symbol, as well as those of her solar companions. It was obvious the temple was one of the Unconquered Sun. Grand as it was, it looked deserted. Sparrow stopped for a time to look up at it.

"Does anyone live there?" she finally asked.

The Captain shook her head. "Only the chosen of the sun may enter."

The desire to enter herself was strong, but Sparrow put it aside for the moment and let the Captain escort them further.

Afton was the farther from the gate, the most well to do section of the city. Fewer people were stirring, possibly still asleep, or just getting ready for the day. Servants moved about the street, carrying bread and other products up from Midtown. The rumours from the gates seemed to have slowed for fewer people watched them with such rapt interest.

Near the middle of Afton was a temple-palace, its architecture displaying what the other buildings in the city, aside from the temple at the city's centre, had only hinted at. It was of the first age, with architecture that had no one had managed to match in the sadder second and third ages of Creation.

They passed through a set of wide, tall doors, into a foyer lit by skylights, cleverly placed mirrors, and essence lamps. The white tiled floor was polished, and a carpet of gold cloth stretched from the doors to a grand staircase of the same, white stone as the floor.

There were guards in the room, outfitted in steel half plate edged in polished bronze, armed with spears and swords. They stood in groups of four near the doors, and the stairs, as well as watching over the other entrances into the foyer.

The captain, in her simple steel breastplate and fur lined, buff jacket, seemed out of place, but if she was uncomfortable about being in such company none of that showed as she walked along the carpet towards the stairs and a desk that Sparrow had not really noticed amongst everything else.

"Captain Farven of the Night Gate Guard," she said to the old man who sat at the desk. "I sent a runner up."

The man nodded as he placed his hand upon a piece of paper. "I received your message." He looked from the Captain to Sparrow, Kiyoshi and then Dreaming Blue; Sparrow noticed his gaze seemed to drift away from Dreaming Blue as if he did not quite see her. "My name is Demma Ulnn, one of Whitewall's senior Inspectors."

"Sparrow Hawk. My Companions Kiyoshi Cathak and Dreaming Blue."

"I welcome you. You have the city's official thanks for dealing with the Great Horrors. The fewer such creatures present, the safer our citizens."

Sparrow nodded.

"Official thanks aside, I would like to know why your have dropped the heads and pelts of twelve such creatures at our gates."

"Call it a diplomatic opening," Sparrow told him.

Demma nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. His expression changed to one more open. "Forgive me for making you stand here." He got to his feet, slowly, carefully, likely in defence to old joints. "Let us talk in someplace more comfortable. Captain Farven, you may return to your post."

"Uh, yes sir." She looked towards Sparrow. "Perhaps, if you would like to learn more of the city, I could…"

"Thank you for your offer" Demma said, cutting off the Captain. "I will keep your interest in mind."

Seeming to realize she had overstepped her bounds she nodded, then turned and walked towards the door.

Sparrow thanked the woman before she had gone too far, and Captain Farven looked over her shoulder and offered Sparrow a quick smile.

"Please, come this way." The Inspector indicated that Sparrow should walk beside him.

Sparrow stood a few steps from him as they walked at a moderate pace. After a moment she said, "I hope the captain will not suffer from any sort of official displeasure." She was careful in her tone, not quite making it a suggestion.

"Not to worry," Demma said. "Have you ever been to Whitewall before?"

"No, this is my first time."

"First time for me as well," Kiyoshi said.

Dreaming Blue did not answer.

"We are something of a besieged city. Punishing our soldiers for not following political niceties is unwise."

"I am glad to hear that."

He nodded as they passed through a door into a hallway. "What do you think of our city?"

"It is well ordered. The citizens look well off."

"That is kind of you to say." He sounded pleased.

He led them into a room, in which a servant was just pouring tea and laying out various light foods. There was also a young man seated near the back of the room, pens and papers on the desk he sat at. Sparrow thought it was likely they were to ignore the clerk, which made her more curious about the man.

"Please sit, rest and refresh yourself," Demma told them as he himself took a seat.

Once they were all seated and had cups of teas Demma started simply by asking, "Are you the Sparrow who ended the Mask of Winters?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny," Sparrow told him, and took a drink. "It does not reflect on the reasons I am here."

Gemma looked slightly surprised. "Why are you here?"

"This is a trade mission. Have you heard the Ice Tree."

The old man took a drink from his tea before answering, "I have heard the name. It is a place, is it not. Near the lands claimed by the Halsanti league."

"I am building airships there. I will need to buy supplies over the coming years. Whitewall is well situated to supply me with metal goods, and perhaps you will one day be a market for the ships."

"The implications of a trade deal like that, as well as what it would mean to our Halsanti neighbours if we were to start buying airships aside, why the Great Horrors?"

Sparrow smiled. "I thought it would likely give me the opportunity to immediately speak to someone in power. Which is has."

He smiled uncertainly. She knew he did not believe her, but he could not call her a liar. It would be impolite and impolitic. She looked over at the clerk, still suspecting that he was more than he seemed, but his attention seemed focused on the notes he was writing.

"Have you arranged a place to stay?" Demma asked her, as if he was grasping for something to say.

"Not yet," Sparrow told him. "I suspect that we can find someplace in the city."

"Very well," he said, and took a drink of his tea. "If you would send word as to where you are staying, the Syndics may wish to offer their thanks. And I will see about covering some of your expenses perhaps."

"I will," Sparrow said. "Thank you for taking the time to speak to us, and for the refreshment."

He put his cup down and got this his feet. Sparrow stood as well. "Again, our thanks for removing the threat of those creatures, and I hope your business within Whitewall will be profitable."

They said their goodbyes and Sparrow and the others left the government halls.

"We're being followed, three people," Kiyoshi said.

"Four," Dreaming Blue corrected.

"Whatever. What'd you think?" he asked Sparrow.

"I'd be disappointed if they were not mistrustful. They story I told them was mostly shit."

"I liked how he looked when you said we were on a trade mission."

"We are here to do some buying."

Kihoshi smiled.

"Have either of you ever been here before?"

"Nope," Kiyoshi said.

Dreaming Blue shook her head.

"I think we'll see if we can find a place to stay Midtown. Close to the temple if we can."

* * *

><p>"Wake up!"<p>

Red was shaking Blue out of her slumber and she mumbled, "Leave me alone neesan," as she burrowed deeper into her bedding.

"Get up you slug," Red said, and yanked hard enough on the cover to pull them free and dump Blue out of her bed and face first onto the floor.

Blue raised her head and looked up from the floor at her sister. "Please tell me the city is being invaded neesan. I don't want to kill you."

"Better," Red said, crouching down next to Blue. "They say that Sparrow is in the city. Apparently she killed anywhere between ten and a hundred great horrors and dumped the bodies by the gate before being invited in."

Blue frowned. "Is that… Is that a new rule for entering the city?"

"No, don't be stupid."

Blue shifted about so she sat on the floor. "Sparrow, as in Sparrow who killed the Mask of Winters?"

"One in the same," Red said, excitement obvious in her voice. "Probably."

"Probably. Wait. Since when you are excited about Sparrow Hawk?"

Red flushed. "Since she showed up here."

"Well, that's hardly fair. I liked her before that."

"You'd jump on any fad. You're interest is always shallow."

Blue got to her feet. "That's not true. Well, mostly. I've depth when it comes to the important things."

Red straightened as well, reached behind her and picked up Blue's robe. "Go and get ready," she said, handed the robe to her sister. "And let's go and see if she is one of the important things."

* * *

><p>Sparrow had left the others almost as soon as she had dropped her things off in the rented room. The temple still called at her, and she made her way directly there. She was probably being followed, but did not really care. She was not going to hide who she was; she could not if she hoped to gather allies.<p>

Soon she stood in front of the stairs: gracefully curved, forming a bow that would face the rising sun, as if welcoming it into the temple. She started up the southern flight of the white steps, walking slowly, reverently, the weight of the place like a physical thing. Some people saw her, a few even called out. Sparrow ignored them.

She stood in front of the white, stone doors, their surfaces covered in golden inlay, depicting scenes of the Unconquered Sun's deeds. Taking a breath she put her hands on the doors and pushed.

Each must have weighed many tonnes, but they swung open smoothly, silently, speaking of precision that she could hardly credit.

The vast cathedral that she entered was made of white marble and gold. Like in the government building mirrors helped to amplify the light coming through the stained glass windows, but the effect was so much greater.

Her steps echoed against the stone and gold floor as she crossed the open hall, walking towards the altar behind which stood the golden representation of the Unconquered Sun. Thousands of worshipers could have stood within the cathedral; she pictured them streaming in through the huge front doors filling the holy temple.

There was a clear window behind the Unconquered Sun's statue. Looking over her shoulder she saw a similar one opposite, high above the doors. Twice a day, she thought, the sun would shine fully and most brightly into the cathedral; Sparrow supposed they were the most holy times, when the worshippers would most want to be part of the ceremony.

Finally she stood at the foot of the raised altar, looking up at the relatively simple block of marble and the gold inlay that almost obscured the stone's surface. So close, looking almost straight up, she could hardly see the statue behind it, knew she would not have been able to see whoever had been leading the congregation.

There were stairs that lead up to the altar; she climbed them. Behind the altar, close to the base of the golden statue, were seats and benches, the first she had seen in the cathedral. Of course, the Law Givers and their most important servants need not stand for an entire ceremony.

She turned and walked up a short flight of steps, to stand behind the altar, looking out over the cathedral floor. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she thought she might cry.

"I believe I felt the same way," a voice echoed out in the silence.

Sparrow turned and looked towards the statue, to a man who stepped out from behind the base. It was the man who had played the clerk when Sparrow had met with Demma.

He was tall, fair haired and fair skinned. He wore a white cloak embroidered in golden thread, his hair worn long and lose.

"I am Sparrow as…" she said, and she started as her voice echoed loudly in the space, reaching the far walls and bouncing back.

She took several quick steps down and away from the altar. She looked towards the man, seeing he was smiling. She smiled as well, and tried again. "I am Sparrow," she said, the strange acoustic qualities from when she stood at the altar were not present and her voice, while seeming loud, did not have the booming quality. "As you know," she continued. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"I am Rune, Eclipse Caste of the Unconquered Sun, Diplomatic aide to the Syndics and Whitewall."

"Sparrow, Sparrow Hawk, Sparrow of the Eyrie, Dawn Caste of the Unconquered Sun and commander of the Ice Tree Sky Fleet." She considered Rune, how different he was from Heron. She wondered how different other Dawn Castes would be compared to her.

"Sky Fleet?"

"In name only for the moment, but give me a little time."

Rune nodded, staring at her for several seconds. "Forgive me, but for someone who destroyed the Mask of Winters I thought you be taller."

"I get that." She moved a few steps closer. "However I was not the smallest person on that battlefield."

"Perhaps I will hear that story someday. Why have you come to Whitewall?"

"Why are you here?"

"I was born here and as such am very protective."

She took a few steps back, looked around. "No one else comes here?"

"The manse will attack anyone but Solars who try to enter."

"Was that always the case?"

"I don't know. Are you avoiding the question?"

"Just curious mostly." She turned her full attention back to Rune. "I came here seeking followers. I need more Dragon Bloods and awakened mortals."

"You are talking about some of the strongest defenders of Whitewall."

"Which understandably upsets you."

He frowned.

"I don't plan to take every defender Whitewall has, even assuming I could. Just a handful that would have left anyway. And my method of recruitment will be of use to you."

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "How so?"

"I kill something big."

"Bigger than twelve great horrors?"

"Much bigger."

"We cannot afford to go to war with a Death Lord."

Sparrow held up her hands, taking a step back from the anger in his eyes, staying calm and resisting the urge to reach for her weapon. "Too big. Something in-between. I'll know it when I see it."

"You'll know it when you see it?"

"It will be a direct threat to Whitewall, and killing it will result in people wanting to swear service to me as well as a reduction in the danger to the city."

"I don't like this game you are playing," he told her, taking a few steps towards her. "Anything you do might put this city in danger, and I will not have it just so you can get some bodies."

Sparrow kept herself from jumping back, met his gaze, ignored the sound of her beating heart in her ears. "Do you really need another enemy?"

That quieted him for a moment, and Sparrow spoke before he could answer. "I can be an ally, or I can be an uncertainty you'll have to live with."

He took another step forward, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. "Or I can deal with you here."

"And when my allies come?"

"I will deal with them when they arrive," he told her, sounding sure of himself, his posture shifting to an aggressive one.

Sparrow stepped forward, quickly, she caught the hilt of his sword in the palm of her hand, ignoring the fear signals being so close to a strange man engendered within her. He had only drawn a hand's span of steel from the scabbard when Sparrow halted the draw. They stood toe to toe, Sparrow looking up at him.

"Can you deal with me?" she asked him, her other hand held the hilt of her own sheathed sword, but there was nothing that would stop her draw.

He considered her for several seconds, shifting his stance slightly, as if looking for an opening. Finally he released his sword, letting it slide back into the sheath. "It's not worth it to find out right now." He was probably trying to sound dismissive, but did not quite manage it. "I want you to keep me informed of your plans."

"Fair enough," she said.

He stepped back. "There are apartments and offices beyond the cathedral. If you wish to make use of them, feel free. This is one of the most comfortable places in the city."

"Thank you."

They stared at each other for several more seconds, then Rune turned and walked away, climbing down from the altar and crossing the cathedral floor. Sparrow remained where she was, staring up at the statue.

* * *

><p>The forty soldiers that had joined the Wyld Hunt were a mix of young and old, a few of them might be a little green, but all had been well trained, a number of them veterans. Anzar watched them as they listened to the monks. The way they nodded and answered back with praises to the Dragons made it obvious they were pious enough for Deled, which was saying something.<p>

Lookshy had picked out forty soldiers that were happy to join a Wyld Hunt, eager really. Forty they were sending off to die, to get rid of a troublesome group now that change was coming.

Perhaps Anzar's view of things was overly pessimistic, but he did not think so.

He walked along the outer deck, stopping where the spray from the paddle wheels could cover him in the fine mist. Normally the river boat was driven by oxen, turning the gears that spun the paddle wheels.

After the third time the ship had docked to switch out the oxen teams Deled's sorcerer monks had summoned several demons to take over. The demons did not tire and were strong enough that the crew had to keep the wooden shafts and gears constantly greased lest they catch fire.

Driven by demons the boat sailed up river faster than any other craft on the water, either going down or up river. They were closing on Vinleau faster than he had thought possible.

He wondered what he was going to do when they arrived.

Ahead of him several soldiers came out on the deck. They were the soldiers Lookshy had sent to see to the protection of the citizens of the River Province. Unlike the ones who had joined the hunt the protectors were senior soldiers, made up of medics and engineers. Anzar had no doubt they could fight if necessary, but their first duty was protection.

One of them looked towards him, then looked away. They spoke quietly amongst themselves then one broke off from the others and walked towards Anzar.

Stopping beyond the spray he said, "Do you have a moment Ragara-san?"

Anzar nodded as he stepped out of the spray. "What's your name?"

"Sergeant Feriz."

"You have a questions Feriz?"

"Can you tell me what we can expect in Vinleau?"

Anzar did not answer immediately, seeking any tone of mocking in the question. It seemed polite enough so he answered, "They are farmers. They will not riot when we arrive. They will be polite enough. Many may not be happy to see me."

Sergeant Feriz nodded. "And if the Anathema come?"

"Yes, what if the Anathema come?"

How Deled had approached without Anzar hearing him was something of a mystery. The Master of the Pinnacle stood only a few steps away. Sergeant Feriz took a few steps back, bowing hastily.

Anzar dipped his head politely, not sure what to say, buying time with the action. Finally he said, "They will not attack us if we are within Vinleau."

"Why?" Deled demanded.

How to answer that in a way that would not anger him? "They want to maintain a good reputation, so they can easier corrupt the gullible. They will not fight in the middle of Vinleau."

Anzar did not actually know if that was true. He suspected that Heron and Sparrow were quite capable of making precision strikes.

True or not Deled seemed to accept it. "Then we will make sure they do not have an excuse." He said no more, just turned and walked away.

Anzar watched him go, focused on the man's broad back. He forgot Feriz until the man said, "He is everything they say."

Looking back he saw Feriz what had to be a carefully schooled look of neutrality on his face. His words could be taken many ways. Anzar nodded. "That is so."

"Ragara-san, would you care to join us?"

It was a polite request, one of the few that Anzar had received in some time. The soldiers were respectful, but not fawning, and Anzar thought he might enjoy the time in their company.

"Thank you, I will."

* * *

><p>Sparrow had spent a long time in the temple, meditating on the place and the god it honoured. When she eventually stepped from the cathedral, out into the city, standing atop the stairs, the sun was high in the sky. There were people in the area, some watching her, but none so obvious in it as the two women, each who stood at the bottom of one of the stair cases.<p>

Red hair like fire on one, blue black hair like water on the other. She turned and started down the stairs that would lead her to the red head. The one with the blue hair walked across the space to join the red head.

When Sparrow reached the bottom of the stairs she found herself facing twins, identical but for their hair colour. They were both taller than Sparrow, and their matching blue eyes were fixed on her.

"If you are going to say you thought I would be taller I don't want to hear it," Sparrow told them.

The red head laughed softly and the other smiled. "Noted," they both said nearly synchronously.

"I am Red," The red head told her, "and this is my littler sister Blue." She pointed at her companion.

"Red and Blue?" Sparrow asked, incredulity thick in her voice.

"Not the names we were given," Blue told her, "not when we were born."

"Names we like now," Red told her.

"I am Sparrow."

"We know," Red said. "Not to be rude about it."

"We've wanted to meet you," Blue said. "We've wanted to meet a Solar, one who was not Rune."

"What's wrong with Rune?"

"He's too focused on this city." She waved her hand around to indicate the area. "He should be focused on Creation."

"I'm not focused on Creation," Sparrow said.

"You killed the Mask of Winters." Red smiled.

"I had help in that, and I did not come here to kill a Death Lord."

"What did you come here to kill?"

Sparrow shrugged her shoulders. "I have not decided yet."

The two sisters smiled.

"A lot of potential targets," Red told her.

It was for the opportunity to meet people like the sisters that Sparrow had come here, but of course she did not know if she could trust them. Heron would know, but Heron would have different ways to attract followers.

"Why have you come looking for me? Why do you care what happens in Creation as a whole?"

The sisters looked at each other from a moment. "Do you know anything about the Golden Janissary style?" Red asked her.

"Never heard of it I am afraid."

"You both practice Golden Janissary?" Dreaming Blue asked.

Sparrow turned to look at the Sidereal. She had the feeling that the other woman had been there all along, and was not surprised at her presence, and yet at the same time Sparrow could not clearly recall Dreaming Blue's prior presence.

"Yes, we do," Blue said.

"Have we met?" Red asked her.

Sparrow looked between Terrestrials and Sidereal, noting that neither seemed to be particularly bothered by Dreaming Blue's presence, though Red showed some unease.

"This is my advisor, Dreaming Blue. Dreaming Blue, the sisters Red and Blue."

Dreaming Blue nodded and then looked to Sparrow. "The nature of Golden Janissary is a holy style particularly suited to fighting creatures of darkness; demons, dead and fair folk in particular."

"That seems like something I should have heard of."

"Yeah, you'd think," Blue said.

"As useful and powerful as the style could be, the Immaculate Order has had some issues with it. One is that the style is secular, and the other is the golden fire that accompanies some of the more powerful techniques. Immaculates find that suspicious."

"I would suppose so." Sparrow looked at the sisters once more. "And why perhaps you would seek out a Solar?"

"We don't necessarily accept the Immaculate Doctrine on this," Red told her.

"Who was your teacher?" Dreaming Blue asked them.

"Iselsi Daichi, also called Master…"

"Of the Golden Fire, yes, I know of him," Dreaming Blue said. "I had heard his Dojo outside of Gem was destroyed by Immaculate monks about fifteen years ago."

Red nodded. "They came in numbers in the dead of night, killed many of the students." Her tone was flat.

"Was your father killed?"

"No."

"The style is not as strong against anything that's not a creature of Darkness," Blue told Sparrow, "but our father had mastered other styles, and he made sure that his students mastered others as well. Only the most junior of students were killed. Father, Red and I, and the senior students fought the attackers off."

"What happened to your father?" Dreaming Blue asked.

"He left, said he needed to find a new pinnacle for the style," Red answered, her tone more animated.

"He sent us away, all the students," Blue added. "Told us to find someplace safe and master our arts. Red and I came here."

"So you have not heard from him?"

"Why do you care?" Red asked.

Dreaming Blue looked surprised for a moment, the expression crossing her face, gone in a moment. "He's a skilled martial artist."

The sisters looked towards each other, as if considering the answer. Sparrow asked, "What would you want out of a Solar?"

Red and Blue looked towards Sparrow. "Answers," Red told her. "To know if father was right."

"He did not think that Solars were evil, he did not believe the Anathema story."

"Just dangerous. There's nothing wrong with being dangerous."

"We want to see what you can do, and we want to do so much more than fight the small battles."

"Give me time to think about this," Sparrow told them.

"About what?"

"About what I am going to do, and if I want to be the answer you seek."

"But…."

Sparrow held up a hand, silencing Blue. "Give me time to think about it."

"Very well," Red answered for both. "If you want to find us our names are well known. Come on Blue."

Blue seemed hesitant to go, but after a moment she turned to follow her sister. Sparrow watched them leave. "What do you think?" she asked as she started walking.

Dreaming Blue walked beside Sparrow. "They are the type of people who you came to seek."

"Their father, you know him?"

"Not personally. I have heard of him. He would be about three centuries old now, it was about two hundred years that he left the Realm behind. Of course it was not unheard of for any of the Iselsi family to leave the Realm."

"Oh?"

"They have been in disgrace for quite some time, after a failed revolution," Dreaming Blue told her, stumbling on a bit of uneven pavement. "It is likely no one gave it much thought when he left, but I think he left so he could pursue Golden Janissary without censure."

"Do you know if he had daughters?"

Dreaming Blue raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I had heard he had children, but not the details."

"So what do you think of them?"

"They are exactly," she stressed 'exactly' "what you hoped to find. I would say that is suspicious."

"So you don't trust them?"

Dreaming Blue was silent for several seconds. "Nothing they said was a lie."

Sparrow thought about that and what the two had said. "I believe them."

"That is your choice."

"I have done this before you know. Before I was Exalted I was a ship's captain and had to choose crew I could trust."

"I may not have heard the story right, but did not one of your officers mutiny and try to kill you?"

"I've learned things since then."

* * *

><p>"What do you think of her?" Blue asked her sister.<p>

"I really did think she would be taller."

"I know. I mean, she looks strong, but I wouldn't have looked at her twice if I didn't know, and hadn't seen her come out of the temple."

"True, but, I was watching her while we spoke, and she did not give me an opening during the entire conversation."

Blue pursed her lips, a thoughtful look on her face. "Well," she finally said, "dad could do that."

"He said that it took him nearly two hundred years to learn that. Sparrow couldn't even be thirty…"

"I'd say barely in her twenties," Blue interrupted.

"…not even half our age and she's already got that," Red continued. "There is a lot we can learn."

"And teach."

"Maybe, but I think she will pick up what we have to offer faster than what we will master what she can give us."


End file.
